SINGULARLY    DELUDED 


A  ROMANCE 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 
IDEALA,  THE  HEAVENLY  TWINS,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  FEDERAL  BOOK  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 


CHAPTER  L 

THE  fusty  old  gods  of  antiquity,  still  so  useful 
by  way  of  illustration,  are  said  to  have  envied 
happy  mortals  with  hatred  and  malice  if  ever 
their  felicity  remained  unbroken  and  was  extreme. 
Jealousy  was  one  of  the  many  bad  attributes  of 
those  malign  impostors  ;  and  the  way  they  made 
misery  for  men,  whose  only  offense  was  the  pos- 
session of  the  power  to  enjoy,  would  have  been 
thought  mean  in  these  days,  and  was  certainly 
low.  But  now  that  their  reign  is  over,  one  would 
like  to  know  how  it  is  that  their  bad  old  tricks 
continue  ?  Did  they  knowingly  and  willingly 
perpetuate  that  idea  of  theirs,  that  it  was  possible 
for  men  to  be  too  happy,  and  the  thing  must  be 
prevented  ?  And  did  they,  with  their  usual  dia- 
bolical ingenuity,  find  means  to  endow  the  fallacy 
with  everlasting  motive-power  to  keep  it  going 
through  all  eternity  with  dire  effect  ?  One  might 
almost  think  so.  For  certain  it  is  that  no  life 
ever  goes  on  smoothly  to  the  end ;  and  when 

3 


2136S12   ' 


4  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDEll. 

things  are  at  the  best,  as  well  as  at  the  worst, 
there  is  sure  to  be  a  change. 

Mrs.  Leslie  Somers  was  a  case  in  point.  Her 
parents  were  rich  and  in  a  good  position.  She 
had  several  brothers  and  sisters,  to  whom  she 
was  devotedly  attached.  All  her  intimate  friends 
were  refined  and  cultivated  people,  and  her  girl- 
hood had  been  one  unbroken  chain  of  happy 
events,  such  as  form  part  of  the  every-day  life  of 
a  young  English  gentlewoman  with  ample  means 
at  her  command,  and  health  and  strength  to  en- 
joy them  ;  the  crowning  event  in  her  case  being 
her  marriage  at  eighteen  with  a  man  ten  years 
older  than  herself,  but  in  every  respect  apparently 
a  suitable  husband  for  her. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  am  now  speaking  she 
had  been  married  four  years.  She  had  a  lovely 
little  boy,  just  able  to  toddle  and  talk,  and  she 
was  staying  with  her  husband  at  a  quiet  sea- 
side place  where  he  had  taken  a  house  for  the 
summer  for  the  benefit  of  his  own  health,  which 
had  latterly  not  been  so  good  as  at  his  age  he 
had  every  right  to  expect  it  to  be.  What  the 
nature  of  his  disease  was,  however,  nobody  seemed 
to  know  exactly.  The  symptoms  were  neither 
peculiar  nor  decided,  being  such,  in  fact,  as 
might  have  denoted  the  beginning  of  half  a  dozen 
different  disorders.  At  times  he  was  feverish  and 
headachy  ;  at  times  he  was  chilly  and  felt  weak  ; 
and  sometimes  he  had  an  abnormally  large  appe- 


SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED.  g 

tite,  which  nothing  seemed  to  satisfy,  while  at 
others  he  went  for  days  together  without  touch- 
ing food  unless  it  was  forced  upon  him.  But  the 
most  trying  part  of  his  disorder  to  his  wife  were 
the  long  periods  of  depression  from  which  nothing 
would  rouse  him,  and  the  succeeding  fits  of  irri- 
tability when  it  was  not  only  impossible  to  please 
him,  but  to  move  without  making  him  angry. 
He  was  a  very  clever  man,  a  barrister  with  a  large 
practise  ;  and  his  own  doctor  thought  the  nerv- 
ous irritability,  which  made  his  life  a  burden  to 
himself  and  his  friends,  was  due  to  overwork  and 
consequent  loss  of  nerve-power,  and  had  there- 
fore ordered  him  absolute  rest,  and  recommended 
him  to  go  away  from  his  worries  for  a  time  to 
some  quiet  place  to  recruit. 

It  was  a  charming  spot  to  which  they  had 
come,  a  little  place  remote  from  the  world,  and 
inhabited  by  unsophisticated  and  friendly  people, 
who  made  their  admiration  and  kindly  interest  in 
the  young  couple  and  their  beautiful  baby  boy 
sufficiently  apparent  in  an  unobtrusive  way  to  add 
the  attraction  of  good-fellowship  to  the  advan- 
tages of  lovely  scenery  which  surrounded  them, 
and  did  so  much  to  make  their  existence  delight- 
ful. It  was  the  sort  of  life,  in  harmony  with 
nature  and  charity  with  all  men,  which  makes  it  a 
pleasure  just  to  be  alive.  They  had  had  enchant- 
ing summer  weather  the  whole  time.  Sky  and 
sea  -and  shore  throbbing  with  the  light  and 


6  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

warmth  of  tbe  sun,  with  the  song  of  the  birds, 
with  the  scent  of  flowers,  with  the  lap  of  waves, 
with  the  rustle  and  murmur  of  leaves,  made  the 
days  delicious.  And  then  there  were  the  nights  ! 
when,  after  the  sunset  flush — a  feast  of  color,  all 
crimson  and  burnished  gold,  trembling  to  daffodil, 
softening  to  green,  deepening  to  purple,  silvering 
to  gray,  and  clearing  again — the  moon  would  rise 
triumphant  and  alone  in  a  clear  cool,  indigo  sky, 
and  the  nightingales  would  sing  from  the  woods, 
would  gurgle  and  trill  and  call,  till  the  air  seemed 
faint  with  the  pleasure  of  their  song.  If  the 
mornings  were  delicious,  I  say,  what  must  the 
evenings  have  been  ?  Ecstatic,  I  think ;  and  so 
those  two  young  people  found  them. 

After  the  boy  had  been  put  to  bed,  and  hus- 
band and  wife  had  dined  among  the  flowers  in 
their  garden  overlooking  the  sea,  they  would  stroll 
along  the  cliffs  arm  in  arm,  or  down  on  the  hard 
sand  by  the  water's  edge,  without  any  such  re- 
straints of  commonplace  civilization  as  hats  and 
gloves  ;  and  at  these  times  the  two  were  wont  to 
be  happy  with  that  full  and  perfect  happiness 
which  can  render  an  account  to  itself,  at  the  mo- 
ment, of  its  own  bliss  ;  and  this,  we  know,  is  the 
only  happiness  that  has  any  real  existence,  all 
other  forms  being  mere  tricks  of  the  imagination. 
For  who  can  call  that  real  of  which  we  know  noth- 
ing until  it  is  over  and  past  beyond  recall  ?  Like 
the  joys  of  youth  of  which  we  hear  so  much,  and 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  } 

feel  so  little  until  they  appear  to  us  in  retrospect, 
and  become  a  melancholy  pleasure  at  best,  but 
oftener  still  a  subject  of  regret,  because  we  did 
not  heed  them  while  they  were  with  us. 

Well,  it  was  not  long  before  the  bright  salt  air, 
rich  with  iodine  and  ozone,  and  fresh  from  its 
race  over  leagues  of  ocean,  the  simple  and  whole- 
some food,  and  all  the  happy  circumstances  of  the 
time,  began  apparently  to  restore  the  invalid. 
His  appetite  was  more  constant,  his  spirits  rose, 
his  temper  was  less  variable,  and  the  power  to  en- 
joy, of  which  he  had  been  deprived  to  a  great 
extent,  began  to  return  to  him — by  fits  and  starts, 
it  is  true,  but  still  it  came  ;  and  his  wife  was 
happy  about  him  again  in  a  calm  and  steadfast 
way  which  was  natural  to  her. 

One  morning  after  their  early  breakfast  they 
strolled  out  of  their  garden  on  to  the  beach  with 
their  boy.  Leslie  Somers  had  a  book,  his  wife  a 
piece  of  work,  and  they  sat  on  the  shingle,  giving 
as  much  attention  to  each  other  and  to  the  sturdy 
child  as  they  did  to  book  or  work.  The  boy 
would  paddle  at  first,  and  his  mother  took  off  his 
ghoes  and  socks  ;  but  finding  the  water  warm  and 
pleasant,  the  young  rascal  was  not  content  to  have 
no  more  of  it  than  would  cover  his  feet,  and  so, 
when  his  parents'  attention  was  otherwise  engaged, 
he  quietly  divested  himself  of  his  scanty  summer 
clothing,  and  when  they  looked  again,  behold  him 
Standing,  a  very  Cupid  with  golden  curls,  crowing 


8  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

with  delight,  and  saying,  "Mind!  mind!"  to 
the  little  waves  that  splashed  up  against  his  mot- 
tled legs,  while  he  motioned  them  back  with  out- 
spread dimpled  hands.  His  father  took  a  rope 
that  was  trailing  from  a  fishing-boat  drawn  up  on 
the  beach  close  by,  and  playfully  threw  it  round 
him,  making  believe  that  he  was  a  ship,  and  must 
be  made  fast  to  the  capstan,  his  mother — the  boy 
entering  into  the  joke,  and  making  the  beach 
resound  with  peals  of  laughter,  spontaneous, 
rippling,  and  delicious  as  the  lap  and  murmur  of 
the  little  waves  that  burst  about  his  feet. 

This  game  ended,  and  the  child  dressed  again, 
the  three  wandered  off  into  the  village  to  buy 
fruit,  and  having  obtained  what  they  wanted,  they 
continued  their  walk,  passing  through  a  narrow 
gorge  between  the  hills  at  the  back  of  the  village 
on  to  the  heath.  These  hills  curved  round  the 
houses  like  a  protecting  arm,  sheltering  them  in 
a  warm  embrace  from  the  world  beyond,  and  keep- 
ing them  safe  from  all  storms  but  such  as  were 
caused  by  the  restless  variable  temper  of  the  wind 
on  the  bosom  of  its  slave,  the  sea.  From  the  vil- 
lage street  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  sus- 
pect the  existence  of  a  great  wide  heath  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hills,  or  even  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  any  road  by  which  this  sheltered  nook  could 
keep  up  communication  with  the  outer  world  ; 
and  when,  having  passed  through  that  narrow 
gorge,  you  found  yourself  on  the  heath,  it  was  so 


S1NGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  9 

unlike  every  other  feature  of  the  place,  except, 
perhaps,  the  sea*  which  was  not  visible  from  any 
part  of  it,  and  to  which,  in  the  long  swell  and 
sweep  of  it,  and  its  billowy  undulations,  it  bore 
some  resemblance,  that  you  might  easily  have 
imagined  yourself  conveyed  by  a  powerful  spell 
from  an  Eden  of  flowers  and  sunshine  to  the  cold 
of  a  wind-swept  desert,  dreary,  disconsolate,  aban- 
doned— the  beginning  of  that  world  without  end 
where  all  life  ceases,  and  the  consciousness  of 
what  must  follow  does  not  yet  begin. 

But  this  would  only  be  your  first  impression 
as  you  stood  a  little  above  the  heath,  looking  down 
on  what  would  then  seem  to  you  a  wide,  unlovely, 
level,  monotonous  expanse.  Like  people  who  are 
really  worth  knowing,  the  heath  improved  on  ac- 
quaintance ;  and  the  more  intimate  you  were  with 
it,  and  the  nearer  you  came  to  it,  the  better  you 
liked  it.  First  you  perceive  with  awe  the  vast 
unusual  height  of  the  vault  of  heaven  above  it ; 
and  next  you  were  conscious  of  the  indefinable 
charm  of  level  distance,  apparently  unbounded  ; 
and  then  there  came  to  you  that  sense  of  freedom, 
born  of  pure  air  and  open  space,  which  gives  wings 
to  the  spirit,  and  exhilarates  unspeakably.  And 
once  you  were  down  upon  the  heath,  you  found 
it  no  longer  a  dreary  monotonous  expanse.  Even 
the  sameness  of  color  vanished  then  :  the  heather 
mixture  of  purple  and  white,  brown,  yellow,  and 
green,  so  insignificant  in  the  distance,  but  99 


10  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

beautiful  when  you  found  yourself  surrounded  by 
its  component  parts — the  purple  heather,  the 
creamy  meadow-sweet,  the  tall  foxglove,  and  the 
feathery  green  of  ferns  and  bracken  through  which 
you  might  then  be  wading  breast-high.  All  these 
were  specks  in  a  conglomerate  whole,  when  see>n 
from  above,  with  no  more  character  visible  than 
is  shown  by  a  crowd  of  one's  fellow-creatures  in 
parti-colored  clothes.  But  once  among  them,  and 
you  found  that,  like  those  same  fellow-creatures, 
each  had  a  separate  existence,  large,  and  more  or 
less  lonely,  of  its  own,  a  local  habitation  and  a 
name.  And  when  you  would  find,  too,  that  all 
that  seemingly  dry  barren  level  was  in  reality 
nothing  of  the  kind,  but  a  rugged  surface,  varied 
with  heights  and  hollows,  and  full  of  life  and 
cheery  voices,  the  babble  of  numberless  streams, 
the  merry  chirp  and  twitter  of  restless  birds,  the 
hum  of  busy  bees,  and  the  voice  of  myriads  of  in- 
sects— the  dominant  chord,  made  of  numberless 
notes,  of  the  whole  melody — sinking  as  they 
settled  in  showers  upon  the  leaves,  swelling  as 
they  rose  again  to  pursue  their  gambols  in  the  air, 
and  sinking  once  more  as  they  again  subsided, 
fatigued  by  their  aerial  dances,  for  another  mo- 
ment's rest.  And  on  a  day  like  this,  too,  every- 
thing was  throbbing  with  an  answering  throb  to 
the  heat  of  the  summer  sun,  glowing  responsive 
to  his  ardent  kiss  ;  the  whole  broad  bosom  of  the 
heath  outspread,  as  it  were,  a  thymy  couch  for 


3INGULARL  Y  DEL UDBD.  1 1 

him  to  rest  upon,  warmed  into  life  and  rapture  by 
his  rays,  and  uttering,  in  the  joy  of  his  caress,  a 
low,  varied,  blissful,  inarticulate  sob  of  deep 
ecstatic  pleasure. 

When  they  found  themselves  out  on  the  scented 
heather,  away  from  all  human  habitation,  the 
young  man  set  his  boy  on  his  shoulder  that  he 
might  see  far  over  this  strange  new  laud,  and  on 
they  walked,  choosing  haphazard  to  follow  a 
narrow  path  that  wound  among  the  bracken,  not 
paying  much  heed  to  whither  they  were  going, 
but  happy  as  the  birds  and  brooks  are,  and  as  free 
from  care  as  the  empty  sky  above  them,  as  un- 
conscious for  the  moment  of  anything  beyond  as 
the  heath  on  which  they  trod.  Leslie  Somers 
held  his  boy  on  his  shoulder  with  one  strong  hand, 
while  with  the  other  he  carelessly  swung  the  rope 
he  had  taken  from  the  fishing-boat  on  the  beach, 
and  had  forgotten  to  replace.  His  wife  walked 
behind  him,  singing  softly  to  herself,  and  laugh- 
ingly putting  ripe  strawberries,  from  a  bag  she 
carried  on  her  arm,  into  the  child's  mouth,  when 
that  crimson  orifice  was  every  now  and  then  pre- 
sented to  her  for  fresh  supplies.  They  had 
scarcely  exchanged  a  word  since  they  left  the 
beach,  there  being  no  need  to  interrupt  their  glad- 
ness with  unnecessary  exertions  of  the  voice. 
But  now,  descending  one  of  the  purple  billows 
that  rolled  from  end  to  end  of  the  heath,  they 
€&me  upon  a  sign  of  civilization  which  astonished 


j  2  SIXGULAKL  y  DEL  UDED. 

them  in  such  a  place.  This  was  nothing  less  than 
a  double  line  of  rails,  quite  invisible  till  you  were 
close  upon  them,  and  which  you  would  scarcely 
have  expected  to  find  there,  even  if  you  had  noticed 
the  telegraph  wires  that  accompanied  them,  as 
usual,  on  the  hither  side.  The  line  seemed  to 
be  hiding  itself  as  much  as  it  could  beneath  the 
luxuriant  herbage  that  fringed  it  thickly  on  either 
hand,  as  if  it  knew  it  had  no  business  there,  and 
was  ashamed  to  be  seen.  It  cut  across  the  heath 
from  side  to  side,  dividing  it,  and  seeming  to 
spring  from  the  heart  of  the  distant  hills  on  the 
right,  to  be  absorbed  again  into  the  hot  haze  of 
the  low-lying  horizon  on  the  left,  as  if  it  flashed 
into  a  brief  and  purposeless  existence  which  ex- 
tended only  as  far  in  either  direction  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  Arrived  at  this  spot,  Leslie  Somers 
put  the  boy  down,  and  that  sturdy  youth,  rein- 
yigorated  by  rest  and  refreshment,  no  sooner 
touched  the  ground  than  he  snatched  off  his  hat, 
and  began  to  deal  death  and  destruction  to  every 
winged  creature  within  his  reach.  His  mother 
stood  leaning  against  a  telegraph-post  watching 
him,  smiling,  tranquil,  and  happy.  Presently  her 
husband  came  up  behind  her  with  that  piece  of 
rope,  and  playfully  wound  it  round  and  round 
her  and  the  telegraph-post,  till  she  stood  pin- 
ioned like  a  victim  tied  to  the  stake. 

"  See,  Boykins  !  "she  cried,  laughing,  "  mother's 
a  prisoner  I " 


SSJVG  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  13 

But  the  child  was  too  busy  either  to  hear  or 
heed,  and  she  stood  there  a  while  longer  con- 
templating his  pretty  gambols,  inother-like,  with 
every  faculty  absorbed  in  the  delightful  occu- 
pation. 

But  all  at  once — she  could  not  tell  why  or 
wherefore — a  little  breeze  had  arisen,  and  the 
day  was  changing,  perhaps,  though  the  birds 
still  sang,  the  bees  buzzed,  and  the  sun  shone ; 
but  all  at  once  she  felt  a  shiver,  not  of  cold,  but 
of  loneliness  and  helplessness,  come  over  her,  and 
she  called  to  her  husband,  "  Leslie!  Leslie!*' 
and  then  was  frightened  by  the  fear  in  her  own 
voice,  and  called  again,  "  Leslie  !  Leslie  ! " 

She  waited  a  moment  for  an  answer  after  that, 
looking  about  her  the  while  ;  but  she  looked  in 
vain.  Her  husband  had  disappeared  ! 


14  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 


CHAPTER   IL 

WHAT  had  become  of  him  ?  she  asked  herself, 
thinking  at  the  same  time  that  he  must  return  in 
a  moment  to  release  her,  and  ready  to  reproach 
him  for  leaving  her  alone  at  all,  tied  up  in  that 
ridiculous  manner. 

But  where  had  he  gone  ?  She  looked  out  over 
the  line,  but  at  first  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
Then  suddenly  she  spied  him  coming  up  out  of  a 
hollow,  out  of  earshot  already,  and  walking  on 
steadily,  but  walking,  alas — oh  !  most  inexplicable 
fact — walking  away  from  her!  "Leslie!  Les- 
lie !  "  she  called  again,  though  she  knew  he  could 
not  hear. 

A  swarm  of  flies  buzzed  up  into  the  air  from 
the  warm  leaves  about  her,  startled  by  the  shrill 
and  sudden  cry. 

"Leslie!  Leslie  !"  she  reiterated,  struggling 
frantically  to  disengage  herself,  though  she  knew 
that  the  one  effort  was  as  futile  as  the  other. 
Then  the  impulse  to  struggle  and  cry  was  over, 
and  she  drew  herself  up  against  the  post,  and 
looked  about  her,  a  changed  woman  in  these  few 
minutes,  in  a  changed  world  ! 

The  child  had  just  caught  another  butterfly. 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  15 

It  was  under  his  hat  on  the  grass,  and  he  was 
sitting  beside  the  hat,  holding  it  down  with  both 
dimpled  hands  in  a  determined  way,  calculated  to 
give  a  spectator  a  vast  idea  of  the  strength  of  the 
creature  beneath.  Every  now  and  then  he  tilted 
the  hat  up  a  little  bit,  and  craned  down  his  neck, 
so  as  to  peep  under,  till  at  last,  catching  a  glimpse 
of  his  prize  in  a  moment  of  oblivious  excitement, 
he  lifted  the  hat  entirely,  when  the  pretty  prisoner 
immediately  spread  its  painted  wings  and  flut- 
tered off.  The  child  watched  it  for  a  moment 
with  a  ludicrous  expression  of  dismay  on  his  coun- 
tenance, and  then  scrambled  up  and  toddled 
on  in  pursuit,  losing  his  balance  often  on  the 
unequal  ground,  and  performing  as  much  of  the 
distance  on  his  hands  and  knees  as  on  his  feet ; 
while  his  mother  in  turn  watched  him,  if  watch- 
ing it  can  be  called  when  the  eyes  involuntarily 
convey  a  record  of  what  is  passing  to  the  brain, 
and  write  it  there  for  the  use  of  recollection  by 
and  by,  the  mind  being  absent  at  the  moment, 
and  all  unconscious  of  the  process. 

The  child  had  crept  and  toddled  by  this  time  to 
the  nearest  line  of  rails,  on  the  polished  surface 
of  one  of  which  he  now  sat.  He  had  forgotten 
the  butterfly  in  the  exertion  of  following  it,  and 
was  looking  about  for  some  new  object  of  interest 
when  his  mother  called  him.  She  did  it  by  force 
of  habit  and  mechanically — "  Boykins,  come 
to  mama  1 "  The  boy  turned  to  her  with  the 


16  S1NGULARL  Y  DEL UDE£>. 

beauty  aud  innocence  of  an  angel  and  the  merry 
mischief  of  a  healthy  little  mortal  on  his  face, 
and  laughed.  "  Boykinths  no  go  to  mummy," 
he  lisped.  "  Mummy  naughty.  Mummy  put  in 
the  corner."  "  Yes,  Boykius,  come  to  mummy," 
she  urged.  "  Boyldns,  come  and  untie  mummy. 
Poor  mummy  a  prisoner. "  But  the  boy  only 
laughed  again,  throwing  himself  back  on  the 
rail,  and  kicking  his  plump  legs  about.  It  was 
too  good  a  joke  this  !  Mama  a  prisoner,  papa 
gone,  and  Mr.  Baby  a  gentleman  at  large  !  He 
couldn't  enjoy  it  half  enough. 

His  mother  had  called  him  mechanically,  as  we 
have  said.  Her  mind  was  for  the  moment  para- 
lyzed by  the  shock  of  the  situation  in  which  she 
found  herself.  She  felt  that  something  had  gorre 
wrong;  she  knew  she  was  in  trouble;  but  what 
was  wrong,  and  wherefore  the  trouble,  she  had 
not  yet  been  able  to  think.  Another  shock  was 
requisite  to  adjust  the  balance  of  her  disordered 
thoughts.  And  presently  it  came.  Glancing 
away  from  the  child  for  a  moment,  her  eye  was 
caught  by  a  dark  body  that  was  rising  up  into  the 
empty  sky  from  the  heath  far  away,  low  down,  close 
to  the  verge  of  the  horizon  on  the  left.  She  saw  it 
at  first  as  we  constantly  see  things  which  bear  no 
reference  to  ourselves,  and  offer  at  a  glance  no 
feature  of  special  interest  to  fix  our  attention. 
She  looked  at  it,  and  she  looked  away  ;  but  the 
heavy  opacity  of  the  thing  had  impressed  itself  on 


SltiGULARL  Y  DEL t/DJSD.  i ) 

her  retina,  and  glance  in  what  direction  she  would, 
it  was  that  she  saw  darkening  all  other  objects. 
Something  unusual  in  this  phenomenon  made  her 
look  back  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  it,  and  the 
slight  effort  of  the  will  this  act  necessitated  was 
sufficient  to  rearouse  her  dormant  mental  energy. 

What  was  the  thing  ?  A  pillar  ?  A  cloud  ? 
Why,  both,  of  course  1  A  pillar  of  soot !  A 
cloud  of  smoke  !  But  how  did  so  dense  a  cloud 
of  smoke  happen  to  be  there  ?  Coal-smoke  too, 
far  from  any  human  habitation,  and  rising  ap- 
parently from  the  bare  brown  heath.  Another 
sense  helped  her  to  answer  the  question  for  her- 
self— the  sense  of  hearing,  upon  which  there  now 
smote  a  rumbling  sound  as  dull  and  heavy  to  the 
ear  as  the  massive  pillar  of  smoke  had  been  to 
the  eye,  a  sound  to  which  she  had  been  accus- 
tomed all  her  life,  a  familiar  rush  and  roar,  the 
cause  of  which  she  had  not  even  to  ask  herself ; 
but  its  very  familiarity  made  it  strange  to  her 
now,  because  of  a  certain  new  significance,  and 
also  the  time  and  place.  It  was  as  if  she  had  ac- 
quired another  sense,  which  enabled  her  to  per- 
ceive for  herself  something  she  had  only  hitherto 
heard  of  ;  and  the  new  feature  in  this  familiar 
object  was  that  of  danger. 

She  was  little  more  than  a  girl  herself,  finely 
nurtured,  delicately  bred,  full  of  youth  and 
health  and  strength,  but  unaccustomed  to  hor- 
rors, and  untried.  She  was  bound  fast  to  that 
f 


i8  SINGULAR!.  Y  DEL UDED. 

telegraph-post,  so  fast  that  the  agony  of  the 
strongest  impulse  in  life  would  not  have  availed 
to  loose  her.  She  was  a  mother,  and  her  little 
child  was  rolling  his  sturdy  limbs  on  the  iron  rail 
not  half  a  dozen  yards  away  from  her,  and  filling 
the  air  with  gurgles  of  happy  laughter.  She 
was  a  sensitive,  delicate,  feminine  thing,  who 
could  not  have  borne  to  see  the  least  little  crea- 
ture suffer  ;  and  she  knew  that  what  she  saw 
there,  that  long,  sinuous,  oscillating  object,  thun- 
dering on  relentlessly  with  rush  and  roar  and 
grinding  weight  of  hardest  metal,  making  the 
earth  tremble,  was  a  train,  which  in  another 
minute  must  mangle  her  tiny  human  blossom  be- 
fore her  eyes,  unless  there  was  a  God  in  heaven 
or  any  power  on  earth  to  be  summoned  by  her 
shrieks,  and  moved  to  pity  by  her  frantic  strug- 
gles. "  Leslie,  Leslie  !  Baby,  baby  !  0  God  !  0 

God  ! My  child  ! " 

But  neither  God  nor  man  heard  her ;  and  the 
child,  frightened  by  her  cries,  sat  up  and  looked 
at  her,  but  would  not  move,  while  the  long  train 
came  on  at  a  terrific  rate,  rushing  toward  him. 
Shriek  upon  shriek,  shriek  upon  shriek,  the 
wretched  mother  sent  up  to  heaven  ;  and  the  solid 
post  to  which  she  was  tied  rocked  again  with  the 
fury  of  her  struggles,  but  the  cord  did  not  give  an, 
inch.  It  had  cut  through  the  sleeves  of  her  sum- 
mer gown  and  into  the  delicate  flesh  of  her  arms, 
but  she  felt  no  physical  pain.  The  awful  torment 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  ig 

of  terror  was  upon  her,  and  all  other  forms  of  suf- 
fering are  as  nothing  to  it. 

As  it  approached,  the  train  uttered  a  shriek 
like  a  hideous  mockery  of  her  own,  which  it 
drowned,  so  that  she  could  not  hear  herself.  It 
seemed  as  if  its  speed  increased  as  it  neared  her, 
rushing  along  in  a  cloud  of  dust.  It  was  coming 
— it  had  come — it  had  passed — it  had  vanished. 
And  the  poor  tortured  mother,  a  sorry  dishev- 
elled figure,  a  ghastly  caricature  of  herself  as  she 
had  been  only  an  hour  before,  was  still  enough 
now.  Her  head  had  sunk  on  her  breast ;  her  eyes 
were  shut.  She  was  conscious,  but  she  could  not 
stand  ;  and  it  was  the  cruel  cord,  eating  further 
into  her  flesh  as  her  weight  sank  upon  it,  which 
for  the  moment  supported  her. 


20  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 


CHAPTER  III. 

IT  was  a  little  laugh,  a  tentative  little  laugh, 
only  wanting  an  excuse  to  become  a  cry,  that 
roused  her.  "  Mummy  frightened  by  the 
puff-puff  !  Mummy  frightened  by  the  puff- 
puff  ! " 

She  raised  her  haggard  eyes,  dully  at  first,  with- 
out intelligence  ;  but  on  a  sudden  a  great  light  of 
joy  flashed  into  them,  a  joy  which  was  as  sharp  a 
pain  for  .an  instant  as  the  fear  had  been.  The 
child  was  still  sitting  on  the  rail  unharmed.  The 
train  had  gone  by  on  the  other  line  !  But  the 
relief  was  little  more  than  momentary.  She  only 
recovered  from  the  first  access  of  terror  in  order 
to  fall  into  another  agony  of  mind,  a  horrible 
agony  of  suspense.  The  boy  would  not  leave  the 
line,  and  the  same  danger  threatened  always  while 
he  remained  there.  The  emergency  was  develop- 
ing a  hitherto  unsuspected  strength  of  character 
in  her.  There  was  little  enough  she  could  do, 
but  what  was  possible  under  the  circumstances 
she  did  with  admirable  presence  of  mind.  She 
tried  coaxing  first  of  all — "  Dear  Boykins,  come 
to  mama  ! " 


SlfrGULARL  Y  DEL &&&£>.  * t 

He  only  looked  at  her. 

"  See,  mummy  has  hurt  her  arm.  Come  and 
kiss  it,  and  make  it  well. " 

He  looked  at  the  arm,  but  seeing  it  was  bleed- 
ing, drew  the  corners  of  his  mouth  down  into  an 
expression  of  disgust,  but  moved  not. 

"Mummy  will  cry  if  baby  won't  come  to  her." 
But  baby  turned  his  resolute  little  head  away,  and 
pretended  not  to  hear.  "  I  know  such  a  nice 
atory,"  the  poor  mother  began  again.  The  little 
fellow  looked  out  over  the  heath  intently,  but  she 
could  see  he  had  pricked  up  his  ears.  "  It  is  all 
about  a  little  boy  who  went  for  a  walk  one  day  with 
his  father  and  mother " 

"  Like  me,  mummy  ?  "  the  child  exclaimed,  for- 
getting his  pretended  preoccupation  in  the  inter- 
est of  this  great  discovery. 

"Yes,  just  like  you.  And  it  was  a  beautiful 
warm  day,  and  the  sun  was  shining,  and  the  birds 
sang  little  songs  to  each  other,  and  there  were 
butterflies " 

"  And  what  did  he  do  ? "  the  boy  demanded, 
his  interest  fully  aroused  by  this  time.  He  was 
sprawling  on  his  stomach  now  between  the  rails, 
with  his  hands  folded  under  his  chin  to  raise  it 
that  he  might  look  up  at  his  mother,  after  the 
manner  of  the  cherub  in  the  picture  known  as 
the  Sistine  Madonna. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  what  he  did  if  you  stay  there. 
You  are  too  far  away." 


22  SINGULAR L  Y  DEL UDED. 

"  No,  me  not/'  was  the  decided  reply.  "  Me 
hear  oo." 

Then  she  answered  in  a  very  low  voice,  only 
allowing  him  to  catch  enough  of  what  she  said  to 
tantalize  him.  He  turned  one  ear,  making  a  great 
attempt  to  hear  at  first,  but  presently  he  tired  of 
the  effort. 

"Boy  know  that  story/'  he  interrupted  con- 
temptuously. "  Boy  tell  it  oo." 

It  was  evident  she  must  change  her  tactics. 
"  Did  Boykins  see  the  big  puff-puff  ?"  she  began 
afresh.  "Another  big  puff-puff  is  coming  di- 
rectly. Boykius  must  get  up  at  once,  this  very 
moment,  and  come  to  mummy,  else  it  will  kill  him 
dead,  and  mummy  will  have  no  little  boy,  and 
then  what  will  she  do  ?  " 

The  child  looked  at  her  dreamily,  but  did  not 
move ;  and  now  she  saw  something  in  his  eyes 
that  made  her  redouble  her  efforts  to  entice  him 
to  her.  The  young  rascal  had  nestled  himself  in- 
to an  easy  position.  The  warmth  and  stillness, 
with  the  day's  fatigue,  were  telling  upon  him.  A 
gentle  languor  appeared  in  his  eyes,  a  gathering 
unconsciousness  of  all  external  things,  partial  at 
first  and  intermittent,  but  presently  descending 
like  a  dark  curtain,  veiling  the  distance,  and  then 
the  nearer  glimpse  of  gorse  and  fern,  the  bottom 
of  his  mother's  dress,  the  bright  shining  rails  be- 
side him,  till  all  the  world  was  blotted  out  by  the 
grateful  impenetrable  blackness,  the  voice  that 


SING ULARLY  DEL UDED.  23) 

called  him  trembling  away  at  the  same  time  into 
a  more  and  more  immeasurable  past,  from  which 
at  last  it  ceased  to  come  at  all.  The  child  slept. 
But,  alas  for  the  mother  ! 

Again  and  again  she  called  him.  Her  throat 
was  parched  and  sore  ;  her  yoice  came  hoarser 
and  hoarser  ;  articulation  grew  gradually  impos- 
sible, and  at  last  sound  failed,  but  the  child  never 
moved.  His  rosy  face  was  turned  to  her,  still 
resting  on  his  chubby  arms.  He  was  slightly 
flushed  with  sleep.  His  bright  lips  were  parted, 
showing  the  little  white  teeth  between.  His  long 
dark  eyelashes  flickered  a  little  now  and  then  as  a  fly 
lit  on  his  forehead  or  glossy  clustering  curls.  A 
lovelier  child  it  would  be  impossible  to  imagine, 
such  a  child  as  only  comes  to  young  and  happy 
parents  ;  and  the  mother,  in  a  worn-out  interval, 
when  the  desire  as  well  as  the  power  to  struggle  and 
cry  were  both  exhausted,  found  herself  perusing 
the  details  of  his  beauty  as  if  it  were  all  new  to  her. 
While  so  engaged  she  forgot  her  own  position 
and  his  for  a  little  ;  but  the  rush  of  recollection 
caught  her  again  inevitably,  and  then  her  frantic 
struggles  were  redoubled,  until  it  seemed  that  if 
deliverance  were  not  at  hand,  death  must  come  and 
release  her.  And  it  was  strange  that  during  all 
this  time  she  never  once  thought  of  her  husband. 
It  was  evidently  not  a  busy  time  on  the  line. 
Only  that  one  train  had  passed  as  yet.  She  had 
fancied  a  hundred  times  that  another  was  coming  ; 


24  STNGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

but  as  none  ever  came,  by  degrees  the  danger 
grew  less  urgently  present  to  her  mind,  and  when 
at  last  the  unmistakable  sound  smote  upon  her  ears, 
coming  in  the  opposite  direction  this  time,  she 
started  into  full  consciousness  again — for  a  dull 
torpor  had  been  stealing  over  her — as  if  the  pos- 
sibility were  new  to  her. 

The  train  came  in  sight,  but  she  deluded  her- 
self with  the  idea  that  this  one  also  must  be  on 
the  other  line.  She  was  so  sure  of  it  that  she 
watched  it  corning,  and  collected  her  strength  to 
make  a  desperate  effort  to  attract  attention  to  her 
strange  position.  She  watched  it  until  it  was 
within  a  few  yards  of  the  sleeping  child,  and  then 
she  saw  her  mistake,  and  it  was  the  last  thing  she 
did  see.  For  in  the  same  instant,  and  before  she 
could  utter  a  sound,  her  senses  left  her.  The 
train  swept  on  as  the  other  had  done,  crowded 
with  people,  many  of  whom  must  have  seen  her 
standing,  apparently  leaning  at  ease  against  the 
post,  and  any  one  of  whom  would  doubtless  have 
flown  to  her  assistance  could  they  have  guessed 
her  need  ;  but  in  the  dust  raised  by  their  rapid 
progress,  and  the  rush  and  whirl  of  it,  nothing 
was  visible  long  enough  to  attract  particular 
attention.  The  engine-driver  saw  her  as  he  ap- 
proached, and  saw  also  a  speck  which  he  supposed 
to  be  a  summer  wrap  of  hers  lying  on  the  line, 
but  forgot  the  circumstance  before  he  was  well 
out  of  sight, 


SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED,  i  25 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WHEN  consciousness  returned,  Gertrude  Somers 
felt  as  if  she  had  only  shut  her  eyes  and  opened 
them  again.  That  there  had  been  any  interval 
between  the  acts  it  was  not,  of  course,  possible  for 
her  to  conceive,  there  being  no  incidents  discern- 
ible by  which  to  measure  the  time  in  the  black- 
ness of  the  heavy  insensibility  that  had  come  upon 
her.  She  recollected  her  own  position  the  moment 
she  recovered,  but  she  did  not  remember  the  im- 
mediate cause  of  her  fainting-fit  ;  and  now,  feel- 
ing a  warm  soft  something  caressing  her  hand, 
and  hearing  a  little  whimpering  voice  calling  her 
in  heart-broken  accents,  she  looked  down  in  a 
dazed  sort  of  way,  wondering  what  it  was  she 
could  not  recollect.  The  little  soft  •warm  lips 
kissed  her  cold  hand  again  and  again,  and  the 
baby  voice  lisped  out  with  baby  pertinacity, 
"  Mummy,  wake  up  !  Mummy,  wake  up  !  Mum- 
my, wake  up  !"  and  then,  finding  mummy  deaf, 
explained,  "  Boykins  come  to  mummy,  'ike  good 
boy." 

Then  she  recollected,  and  grasping  his  little 
hand,  held  on  to  it,  and  would  have  held  on  till 
heaven  and  earth  had  passed  away,  had  that  even.t 


26  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

occurred  before  rescue  reached  her.  But  happily 
her  tenacity  was  not  put  to  the  test. 

The  rush  of  happy  relief  which  the  sight  of  her 
boy,  safe  and  sound,  and  within  reach,  had  caused 
her,  had  greatly  revived  her.  She  was  able  to 
murmur  fervent  ejaculations  of  gratitude  to 
heaven,  while  she  wondered  how  the  miracle  had 
been  wrought.  It  was  no  such  mighty  miracle 
after  all,  as  she  must  have  known  had  she  kept 
her  consciousness  a  moment  longer.  The  child 
was  lying  down  flat  between  the  rails,  and 
the  train  passed  safely  over  him.  The  wind  of  it 
fluttered  his  skirts,  aiid  the  noise  awoke  him,  but 
he  was  too  frightened  to  move  while  it  would  have 
been  dangerous  to  do  so.  When  all  was  quiet 
again,  however,  he  made  for  his  mother's  side,  and 
nestled  close  up  to  her  with  lamb-like  docility. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  could  realize  the  danger  now 
it  was  past,  and  was  subdued  by  the  thought 
of  it. 

"  Mummy,  come  away,"  he  pleaded. 

"  Mummy  tied,  mummy  can't  come  away,"  she 
answered,  desperately.  "  Baby  ask  God  to  untie 
mummy." 

Then  the  child  hid  his  little  face  in  her  dress, 
and  was  still. 

Presently  there  came  a  sound  which  made  her 
heart  leap  for  joy.  It  was  the  ring  of  a  clear  voice 
singing,  a  man's  voice — singing  a  careless  song  of 
love  and  peace,  but  it  did  n^t  jar  on  her,  though 


SINGULARL  y  DEL  UDED.  27 

the  theme  was  little  suited  to  her  mood,  for  it 
meant  help.  The  singer  was  coming  toward  her, 
*  /which  was  fortunate,  for  she  could  not  have  made 
him  hear  at  any  distance,  her  voice  was  so  hoarse. 
He  approached  nearer  and  nearer,  still  singing, 
till  he  was  close  to  her,  then  the  song  broke  off 
abruptly.  He  was  coming  from  behind,  and  she 
could  net  see  him  ;  but  he  had  just  seen  her,  and 
had  stopped  amazed.  Only  for  a  moment,  though, 
and  then  he  came  up  hastily. 

"  Good  heavens  ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  How  did 
this  happen  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know — at  least — oh,  something  must 
have  happened,"  she  cried.  "  But  for  pity's  sake 
undo  the  cord,  sir.  It  is  cutting  me  to  the  bone, 
I  think." 

But  he  had  undone  it  even  while  she  was  speak- 
ing, and  putting  his  arm  round  her  with  the  busi- 
ness-like air  of  a  man  accustomed  to  succor  the 
sick  and  sorry,  he  sat  her  gently  down  upon  the 
turf,  and,  kneeling  on  one  knee,  supported  her 
with  the  other,  while  he  took  a  flask  of  wine  from 
his  pocket  and  made  her  drink.  He  did  not 
trouble  her  with  any  more  questions,  but  dil 
tfhat  he  could  to  restore  her,  in  a  manly  unaffected 
way  that  made  the  endeavor  natural  and  accept- 
able. He  was  a  man  of  thirty,  rather  over  the 
middle  height,  well  made,  with  bright  fair  hair, 
a  broad  high  forehead,  deep  gray  eyes,  small  non- 
descript nose,  strong  teeth,  and  a  Cupid's  bow  of 


«8  SlfrGttLARL  Y  DELUDED. 

a  mustache.  It  was  a  strong  expressive  face, 
though  not  exactly  a  handsome  one.  The  expres- 
sion in  it  now,  of  deep  sympathy  jand  interest,  in- 
spired confidence,  and  Mrs.  Leslie  Somers  began 
of  her  own  accord,  as  soon  as  she  was  sufficiently 
recovered,  to  tell  him  as  much  as  she  knew  herself 
of  the  circumstances  which  had  led  to  his  finding 
her  in  such  a  strange  predicament. 

"Something  must  have  happened  to  my  hus- 
band," she  added.  "  Something  must  have  hap- 
pened to  him/' 

"  You  had  no  quarrel  with  him  ?  Pardon  me, 
I  must  ask  the  question.  The  whole  affair  is  so 
extraordinary/' 

"  Quarrel  with  my  husband  !  "  Gertrude  ex- 
claimed. "  How  could  I  ?  " 

The  young  man  smiled.  "  Well,  such  things 
do  happen,  you  know,"  he  answered,  depre- 
catingly.  "But  te  lime,  what  were  you  talking 
about  before  he  bound  you  to  the  post,  and  at  the 
time?" 

' '  Nothing.  "We  spoke  very  little  to  each  other 
after  leaving  the  beach,  and  I  can't  remember 
anything  /  said  ;  but  once  or  twice  he  exclaimed, 
'Take  care,  Gertrude  !'  or  'Mind  that-  stone  ! ' 
for  I  was  following  him,  you  know,  and  the  road 
is  rough." 

"  You  do  not  live  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  We  came  to  Trewport  on  my  hus- 
Sand's  account.  He  has  been  suffering  from  the 


SINGULAR L  Y  DEL UDED.  2 9 

effects  of  overwork,  and  was  very  much  out  of 
health." 

"  Ah  .' "  the  stranger  exclaimed,  as  if  this  last 
observation  threw  some  light  on  the  subject. 

"  Had  he  been  depressed  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  had  long  fits  of  depression  at  times  ; 
but  he  has  been  wonderfully  better  since  we  came 
here/' 

"  Did  he  show  any  sign  of  depression  this  morn- 
Ing?" 

"  No,  at  least — now  I  think  of  it — he  was  very 
quiet.  Bnt  I  really  noticed  nothing  unusual." 

The  young  man  was  thoughtful  for  a  little  time 
after  this.  Then  he  said:  "Perhaps  I  had 
better  tell  you  that  I  am  a  doctor.  My  name  is 
Jeffrey  Mansell.  And  as  a  medical  man,  may  I 
give  you  my  opinion  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you  would." 

"  Shortly,  then,  I  think — I  may  be  wrong,  you 
know — but  I  think  that  your  husband,  suffering 
as  yon  say  from  the  effects  of  over- work,  has  be- 
come suddenly  deranged — temporarily,  of  course 
— and  that  he  has  wandered  away  under  the  in- 
fluence of  some  delusion.  There  are  some  such 
cases  on  record,  and  they  have  almost  invariably 
occurred  to  men  suffering,  as  so  many  do  now, 
from  the  over-pressure  of  brain-work.  Your  hus- 
band's doctor  will,  however,  know  at  once  if 
such  a  thing  was  probable  in  his  case,  and  in  the 
mean  time  we  must  find  him." 


30  SING ULARLY  DEL UDED. 

"  I  saw  him  over  there  a  long  way  off,"  Mrs. 
Somers  said,  indicating  the  direction.  "And 
here  come  some  workmen,  who  may  have  met 
him.  Will  you  kindly  inquire  ?  " 

Dr.  Mansell  did  so,  but  at  first  they  said  they 
had  not  seen  any  one  all  day. 

"Would  he  be  going  toward  the  station, 
though  ? "  one  of  them  turned  back  to  ask. 

"  What  like  was  he,  tall  ?  I  did  see  a  tall  gentle- 
man, walking  in  a  hurry,  as  if  he  was  going  to 
catch  a  train  down  yonder  at  the  station.  But 
that  was  before  dinner-time." 

The  doctor  returned  to  Mrs.  Somers.  "  They 
did  see  him/'  he  told  her — ' '  that  is,  if  he  is  tall  ?  " 
She  nodded.  "  But  now,  if  you  can  walk,  you 
must  try  and  get  home,"  he  went  on.  "  Come, 
young  man,"  and  he  picked  up  the  boy,  and  set 
him  on  his  shoulder.  "  Can  you  walk  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered  bravely.  "  I  am  quite 
strong  now.  Do  not  let  us  lose  any  more  precious 
time.  I  am  afraid  of  being  seen,  too,"  she 
added,  glancing  down  at  her  torn  sleeves,  and 
putting  her  hands  up  to  her  tumbled  hair.  ' '  But 
we  can  get  to  our  house  without  going  through 
the  village." 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  Leslie  Somers  had  taken  a  furnished  house 
for  the  reason,  and  had  brought  down  their  own 
servants.  The  house  stood,  surrounded  by  a 
beautiful  garden,  just  outside  the  village,  close  to 
the  sea,  and  Dr.  Mansell  left  Mrs.  Somers  and  the 
boy  at  the  garden  gate,  which  they  had  reached, 
fortunately,  without  encountering  any  one. 

"I  am  private  physician  to  Lord  Wartlebury 
at  present,"  he  had  explained  by  the  way.  "He 
has  just  purchased  a  large  steam-yacht,  in  which 
I  am  bound  to  accompany  him  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  which  is  to  be  our  destination,  I  believe ! 
You  may  have  noticed  the  yacht  this  morning, 
anchored  out  in  the  bay.  We  put  in  here  for 
water,  and  I  came  on  shore  to  stretch  my  legs, 
which  were  somewhat  cramped  by  the  close  quarters 
on  board." 

"  Thank  heaven  for  sending  you  !"  Mrs.  Somers 
ejaculated.- 

When  they  reached  the  gate,  Dr.  Mansell  said, 
"  I  will  leave  you  here.  Do  pray  go  and  rest, 
and  eat  if  you  can.  You  must  keep  up  your 
strength  and  spirits.  I  see  you  don't  want  to 
think  about  yourself,  but  it  is  very  necessary,  and 


32  S/NGULA RL  Y  D&L  UDE£>. 

you  most.  Excuse  my  authoritative  manner," 
he  added,  with  a  frank  and  genial  smile.  "  It  is 
part  of  my  profession,  you  know,  and  really  there 
will  be  no  time  lost,  for  I  am  going  straight  off 
to  the  yacht  at  once  to  tell  Lord  "Wartlebury  what 
has  happened,  and  get  men  to  search  the  heatlt. 
I  will  go  to  the  station  also,  and  make  inquiries 
there  myself.  And  I  know  Lord  Wartlebuiy 
will  do  what  he  can.  He's  the  kindest  old  man 
alive." 

Mrs.  Somers  accepted  this  kind  offer  of  further 
assistance  without  any  affectation  of  reluctance. 
Her  need  was  too  great  to  think  of  such  a  thing, 
and  besides,  there  was  something  in  Dr.  Mansell's 
way  of  taking  the  responsibility  on  his  own 
shoulders,  which  made  his  doing  so  seem  less 
a  favor  to  herself  than  a  duty  to  society  at  large. 
Very  thankfully  then  she  confided  in  his  strength, 
and  prepared  to  obey  him.  She  did  all  that  he 
had  suggested  to  keep  up  her  own  strength,  but 
the  all  was  not  sufficient  to  distract  her  attention 
during  the  interval  that  necessarily  elapsed  before 
he  could  return  to  report  progress,  and  the  tor- 
ment of  those  long  moments  of  suspense  and 
inaction  was  such  as  she  had  not  hitherto  thought 
it  possible  for  mortals  to  endure.  She  had  read 
often  enough  though,  in  sensational  stories,  of 
the  sufferings  of  heroes  and  heroines  under  the 
influence  of  poignant  anxiety,  and  had  even 
sympathized  with  what  they  felt  to  a  certain  ex- 


S1NGULARL  Y  DEL UDEb.  3 3 

tent ;  but  such  sympathy  had  merely  caused  her 
a  thrill  of  pleasurable  interest,  very  different  from 
the  ache,  ache,  ache  of  the  terrible  dread  that  now 
beset  her.  She  wondered  how  she  could  ever  have 
read  of  such  things  to  enjoy  them  ;  and  really, 
when  one  comes  to  think  of  it,  the  want  of  imag- 
ination, which  enables  us,  by  way  of  relaxation, 
to  contemplate  our  fellow-creatures  in  the  most 
painful  positions,  is  extraordinary.  Were  we 
ourselves  placed  in  circumstances  which,  in  a  book, 
just  suffice  to  fix  our  attention,  they  would  prob- 
ably land  us  in  a  lunatic  asylum.  Optimists 
would  argue  that  it  is  a  wise  provision  of  nature, 
this  inability  to  realize  ;  but  pessimists  might 
quote  it  triumphantly  to  show  how  close  to  the 
surface  the  savage  in  us  is,  and  how  we  delight, 
so  far  as  we  dare,  in  most  of  the  barbarities  which 
civilization  lias  proscribed  as  a  disgrace  to  our 
common  humanity. 

But  Mrs.  Leslie  Somers  did  not  weakly  give 
way  to  anxiety.  She  suspended  her  suspense,  as 
it  were,  and  lessened  it  by  a  determined  effort  to 
keep  her  mind  fixed  on  the  happiest  possible  ex- 
planation of  what  had  occurred.  She  told  her  serv- 
ants that  she  was  afraid  her  husband  had  lost 
himself  on  the  heath,  but  that  another  gentleman 
had  gone  to  look  for  him  in  case  some  accident 
had  occurred,  which,  however,  she  did  not  think 
likely,  though  he  might,  of  course,  have  sprained 
his  ankle — it  was  very  rough  walking  out  there, 
I 


34  SMGULARL  Y  DEL UDSD. 

as  they  knew,  and  in  that  case  it  would  take  him 
some  time  to  get  home — an  explanation  so  natural 
and  plausible  that  it  imposed  upon  herself, 
although  it  only  occurred  to  her  when  the  neces- 
sity to  say  something  arose.  From  that  moment 
she  waited,  with  hope  in  her  heart,  and  some 
show  of  patience ,'  but  still  the  time  dragged  by 
on  feet  of  lead,  and  every  now  and  then  the  rec- 
ollection of  the  bright  and  happy  morning  re- 
curred to  her  with  a  pang — and  who  could  have 
dreamed  that  in  so  short  a  time  all  would  be 
changed  ! — but  still,  of  course,  she  caught  herself 
up,  there  was  nothing  really  to  fear.  In  fact  she 
quite  expected  Dr.  Mansell  and  Leslie  would  be 
laughing  with  her  over  the  incidents  of  the  day  at 
dinner  that  very  evening,  and  while  she  thought 
of  it,  she  would  go  and  tell  the  cook  to  prepare 
for  a  guest.  But  it  was  four  o'clock  and  they 
had  not  come  ;  what  could  be  keeping  them  ? 

With  all  possible  despatch,  however,  Dr.  Man- 
sell  did  return,  but  not  with  Leslie,  and  not 
alone  either,  for  Lord  Wartlebury  accompanied 
him.  Lord  Wartlebnry  was  a  man  of  seventy, 
fresh  for  his  age,  and  vigorous,  with  a  large  well- 
ahaped  head,  betokening  a  finely  balanced  brain, 
and  bald  save  for  a  fringe  of  gray  hair  at  the 
back  ;  piercing  dark  eyes,  regular  features,  clear 
cut  still  in  spite  of  his  age  ;  a  gray  mustache 
waxed  at  the  ends,  good  teeth,  though  somewhat 
discolored,  and  the  air  and  carriage  of  a  soldier 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  35 

accustomed  to  command.  His  whole  appearance 
suggested  health  both  of  mind  and  body  ;  you 
would  have  said  a  man  with  twenty  years  of  life 
before  him,  and  power  to  enjoy  every  one  of  them  ; 
and  the  expression  of  his  countenance,  while  it 
must  have  commanded  respect,  even  had  you  not 
known  who  he  was,  would  also  have  inspired  con- 
fidence, and  that  liking  at  first  sight  which 
rapidly  ripens  into  affection.  This  was  the  ef- 
fect produced  on  Mrs.  Somers,  whom  he  further 
fascinated  by  a  mixture  of  courtly  grace  of  man- 
ners and  kindly  deference  which  was  irresistible. 
The  two  gentlemen  found  her  dressed  in  a 
plain  dark  traveling  costume,  ready  for  any 
emergency.  Her  hair  was  bound  round  her  head 
in  thick  dark  glossy  coils,  which  looked  as  if  they 
had  been  arranged  less  for  ornament  than  for 
neatness,  which  would  last  out  a  long  journey 
should  she  be  obliged  to  take  one.  Her  manner 
was  cool,  composed,  and  resolute  ;  her  face,  pale  ; 
her  eyes  unnaturally  bright  but  steady.  Under 
ordinary  circumstances  she  would  not  have  at- 
tracted much  attention.  She  had  good  hair,  good 
eyes,  a  good  figure,  small  hands  and  feet,  strong 
teeth,  and  was  altogether  good-looking,  but  not 
beautiful.  Yet  she  was  interesting  in  appearance, 
and  intellectual,  two  lasting  charms  which  a  man 
like  Lord  Wartlebury  would  appreciate  at  once, 
and  prefer  to  mere  animal  beauty,  however  strik- 
ing. She  was  refined,  too,  both  in  mind  and 


36  SING ULARLY  DEL UDED. 

manner,  another  charm  rarer  than  any,  and  as 
powerful,  and  apparent  in  her  whole  person  and 
dress,  in  every  look  and  gesture.  Lord  Wartle- 
bury  understood  her  at  once.  He  saw  the  slim 
grace  of  a  girl  in  her  appearance,  but  the  strength 
and  confidence  of  a  woman  of  the  world  in  her 
character,  and  a  something  beyond  in  her  deport- 
ment generally,  which  promised  a  depth  of  passion- 
ate earnestness  which  would  stand  her  in  good 
stead  in  trying  circumstances. 

"  I  ventured  to  call,"  he  said,  when  Dr.  Man- 
sell  had  presented  him,  "  and  hope  you  will  not 
think  me  officious.  If  there  is  anything  at  all  I 
can  do  to  help  you,  I  should  be  really  glad." 

"  You  are  very  kind/'  she  answered,  simply. 
Then  turning  to  Dr.  Mansell,  she  said  :  "  You 
have  not  found  my  husband  ?  "  speaking  in  a  steady, 
self-contained,  almost  business-like  tone,  which 
betrayed  strong  feeling  enough,  but  without  a 
symptom  of  tears  or  hysterics. 

"  No,"  was  the  doctor's  direct  reply.  "  Lord 
"Wartlebury's  men  have  scoured  the  heath  in  all 
directions,  but  they  found  no  trace  of  him  there. 
I  heard,  however,  at  the  station  that  a  gentleman 
did  leave  by  the  mid-day  train  for  London.  He 
was  a  tall  man,  clean  shaven,  regular  features, 
thick  brown  hair,  with  a  tinge  of  red  in  it,  cut 
short  behind,  but  curling  on  the  forehead  ;  pale- 
blue  eyes,  deep-set ;  and  he  wore  a  suit  of  summer 
tweed,  light  gray,  and  a  white  tie." 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL t7D£D.  37 

"That  is  my  husband,"  she  said  quite  quietly. 

"  The  fellow  from  whom  you  got  your  informa- 
tion must  have  had  a  nice  faculty  for  observation, 
I  should  think/'  Lord  Wartlebury  observed. 

"  Yes,  apparently,"  Dr.  Mansell  answered. 
"  But  he  had  a  reason  for  noticing  this  gentle- 
man particularly,  and  that  made  me  think  that 
perhaps  I  was  on  the  right  track.  It  was  the 
ticket-collector  that  gave  me  the  information,  and 
he  said  he  couldn't  help  noticing  the  gentleman, 
because  his  manner  was  so  peculiar.  He  walked 
up  and  down  the  station  while  he  was  waiting  for 
the  train,  flourishing  his  stick,  and  talking  at  the 
top  of  his  voice  to  everybody,  and  he  would  insist 
upon  getting  into  a  third-class  carriage,  although 
he  had  taken  a  first-class  ticket.  He  had  no  lug- 
gage with  him  either.  And  the  man  thought  he 
had  been  drinking." 

A  painful  spasm  contracted  the  young  wife's, 
face  for  a  moment.  "  That  is  very  unlike  my 
husband,"  she  said.  "  It  must  be  as  you  say, 
doctor,  he  has  lost  his  senses" — and  then,  turning 
to  Lord  Wartlebury,  and  speaking  with  more 
emotion  than  she  had  yet  shown,  she  exclaimed 
— "  Oh,  sir,  help  me  to  find  my  husband  ! " 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  the  old  gentleman  an- 
iwered,  "  nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleasure. 
I  can  assure  you  that  nothing  would  give  me 
greater  pleasure." 

Then  there  was  a  pause. 


38  SING ULARLY  DEL UDED. 

"  I  must  follow  him,"  she  said  at  last. 

"  That  is  what  Dr.  Mansell  thought  you  would 
wish  to  do,"  Lord  Wartlebury  replied.  "  He 
has  inquired  about  the  trains,  and  finds  there  are 
none  until  eight  oclock  this  evening,  and  that  is 
a  slow  one  ;  but  there  is  a  fast  one  about  ten, 
which  arrives  at  the  same  time,  and  it  would 
doubtless  suit  you  better  to  go  later.  You  will 
probably  have  arrangements  to  make,  friends  to 
communicate  with,  and  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  I  am  ready,"  she  answered.  "  I  packed  my 
things  while  I  was  waiting  for  Dr.  Mansell.  We 
heard,  you  know,  from  a  laborer  that  a  gentleman 
had  been  seen  going  to  the  station,  and  so  I  pre- 
pared to  follow  him,  if  he  had  indeed  gone.  But 
about  communicating  with  our  friends ;  what 
would  you  advise  ?  He  may  only  have  gone  to 
our  house  in  London,  or  to  his  own  chambers,  in 
which  case  I  shall  find  him  easily.  And  I  have 
been  thinking  that  the  fewer  people  who  know 
about  this — this — this — his  going  away  like  this, 
the  better.  If  it  were  made  public,  it  might  in- 
jure him  in  his  profession.  I  do  not  know  where 
my  own  people  are  at  this  moment.  They  have 
gone  abroad,  and  are  moving  from  one  place  to 
another,  so  that  I  am  never  sure  of  their  address  ; 
and  my  husband  has  no  near  relations  except  a 
sister,  who  lives  in  London,  and  whom  I  shall  go 
to,  or  send  for,  as  soon  as  I  arrive,  to  ask  her  to 
come  here  and  look  after  my  boy,  in  case  1  have 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  39 

to  be  away  any  time.  She  is  a  very  discreet  per- 
son, and  I  can  trust  her.  Our  own  servants  are 
all  here,  and  I  shall  tell  them,  that  their  master 
has  been  obliged  to  go  to  London  suddenly  on 
business  of  importance,  and  that  I  mean  to  run 
up  and  do  some  shopping  while  he  is  busy.  They 
know  he  likes  me  to  be  with  him  always/'  This 
last  thought  brought  a  dry  sob  to  her  throat. 
Were  the  happy,  happy  days  all  over  ?  "Was  her 
husband  to  be  hers  no  more  ?  If  she  found  him, 
would  ho  look  at  her  strangely,  not  knowing,  not 
remembering  ?  0  God !  She  straightened  her- 
self on  her  seat  as  she  uttered  this  bitter  inward 
cry,  renewing  her  strength  with  the  effort,  and 
casting  the  distressing  thought  far  from  her.  But 
how  should  she  bear  the  hours  of  suspense  that 
must  elapse  while  she  waited  for  the  train  ?  For 
the  first  time  in  all  her  healthy,  happy  life,  the 
fear  of  being  left  alone  with  her  own  thoughts 
appalled  her. 

"  Indeed  I  think  you  scarcely  need  advice," 
Lord  Wartlebury  answered.  "  What  you  propose 
seems  to  me  in  every  way  the  proper  thing  to  do  ; 
what  do  you  say,  Mansell  ?  " 

A  hot  flush  came  and  went  on  the  young  man's 
clear  skin.  It  was  a  peculiarity,  this  flush,  in  the 
way  it  came  and  went  whenever  he  was  moved. 
It  was  eloquent  now  of  the  sincere  admiration  he 
felt  for  this  young  creature,  so  cruelly  placed,  and 
yet  so  strong  and  wise  in  the  midst  of  her  calamity. 


40  SING  ULA  RL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  he  said,  "that  there  is 
only  one  thing  Mrs.  Somers  has  not  thought 
of — the — eh — awkwardness,  for  a  lady,  of  ar- 
riving in.  London  alone  in  the  middle  of  the 
night." 

"  /  had  thought  of  that,"  his  lordship  an- 
swered, with  a  benign  smile  on  his  kind  old  face ; 
"and  as  I  have  to  go  up  about — eh — that  business 
you  know,  Mausell,  I  told  you  of,  I  hope  Mrs. 
Somers  will  allow  me  to  be  her  escort."  He 
looked  very  dignified,  very  much  indeed  a  noble- 
man, as  he  spoke,  but  the  young  lady  smiled  in 
his  face,  and  the  smile  was  infections. 

"Thank  you,"  was  all  she  said,  but  the  words 
were  a  real  expression  of  gratitude.  "What  she 
thought,  however,  was  :  He  shouldn't  tell  stories. 
He  doesn't  do  it  at  all  well.  It  is  my  business 
that  is  his  business,  I  know ;  and  he  knows  I 
know  it,  so  where  was  the  use  ?  I  suppose, 
though,  I  should  have  refused  to  let  him  come  if 
he  had  put  it  in  any  other  way.  Well,  his  deli- 
cacy, at  all  events,  makes  up  for  his  little  fib. 

The  two  gentlemen  rose,  and  as  they  did  so 
the  horror  of  being  left  alone  recurred  to  her. 
"  Oh,  do  not  leave  me  !  "  she  said,  so  earnestly 
that  they  hesitated  ;  "  at  least — I  mean,"  she 
faltered — "  if  you  have  nothing  better  to  do,  will 
you  stay  and  dine  with  me  ?  "  And  she  wrung 
her  hands,  and  then  she  laughed  ;  it  was  such  a 
funny  way  to  ask  any  one  to  dinner.  "  You  will 


SING  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  41 

think  me  very  weak-minded,"  she  explained.  ''I 
can't  help  it ;  I  am  afraid  to  be  alone.  If  I  have 
leisure  to  think,  I  shall  break  down  before  the 
servants,  and  then  they  will  know  that  something 
must  be  wrong." 

There  was  now  an  end  of  all  ceremony  between 
them.  Dr.  Mansell  sent  a  boat  off  to  the  yacht, 
with  orders  to  send  what  Lord  Wartlebury  re- 
quired to  meet  him  at  the  station,  and  then  the 
three  spent  the  evening  together — a  quiet  evening 
certainly,  but  not  unpleasant  for  the  gentlemen , 
for  their  brave  little  hostess  put  off  her  sadness  as 
a  duty,  and  talked  enough  to  have  deceived  them, 
let  alone  the  servants,  had  they  not  known  of  the 
cruel  anxiety  which  was  gnawing  at  her  heart. 
And  even  they  never  suspected  the  sharp  physical 
pain,  caused  by  those  cutting  cords  and  her  frantic 
struggles,  which  was  adding  the  fear  of  being 
disabled  to  her  other  miseries,  though  she  strove 
not  to  admit  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing  even 
to  herself.  Her  wounded  arms  might  burn,  and 
her  wrenched  body  might  stiffen,  but  be  with  her 
husband  before  morning  she  would,  if  she  kept 
her  consciousness  at  all. 


42  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THERE  being  no  sleeping-cars  on  that  line,  they 
were  obliged  to  make  the  journey  in  an  ordinary 
first-class  carriage.  The  train  was  somewhat 
crowded,  and  Mrs.  Somers  thought  their  having 
a  whole  compartment  to  themselves  was  a  fortu- 
nate accident.  She  never  suspected  that  it  had 
been  secured  with  some  trouble  for  her  special 
comfort  and  convenience.  Indeed  everything  was 
being  done  that  could  be  done  by  the  most 
thoughtful  kindness  to  make  her  position  easier 
for  her,  and  one  of  the  proofs  of  the  delicate  tact 
with  which  she  was  being  cared  for  and  protected 
was  the  fact  that  no  sense  of  obligation  oppressed 
her.  All  this  attention  came  as  naturally  to  her 
from  these  two  strange  gentlemen  as  it  would  have 
done  from  her  own  father  and  brother. 

But  the  journey  did  seem  interminable,  parts 
of  it  especially — those  long  stretches  of  time  be- 
tween the  rare  stoppages,  when  the  world  beyond 
the  narrow  limits  of  the  carriage  was  blotted  'out 
by  the  impenetrable  darkness,  and  nothing  oc- 
curred to  mark  the  rate  of  progress,  or  even  to 
assure  the  anxious  weary  one  that  they  were  pro- 
gressing at  all,  but  rather  the  contrary  ;  for  by  a 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  43 

curious  trick  of  the  senses  she  found  herself  fancy- 
ing that  they  were  not  moving,  in  spite  of  the  rush 
of  the  grinding  steel,  or  else  that  they  were  going 
back,  which  was  worse. 

Lord  Wartlebury  sat  opposite,  and  patiently 
dozed  the  greater  part  of  the  time,  waking  up, 
however,  whenever  the  train  stopped,  and  talking 
to  her  with  that  unfailing  cheerfulness  which  is 
one  of  the  characteristics  of  his  class,  or  maybe 
a  part  of  their  creed.  Doubtless  in  many  cases 
their  manners  are  idle  ;  but  in  Lord  Wartlebury's 
they  were  certainly  a  proof  of  loyal  nature  and  of 
lofty  mind,  and  he  would  not  have  forgotten  them 
at  death's  door.  But  at  seventy  years  of  age  even 
the  most  vigorous  man  must  show  signs  of  fatigue 
after  extra  exertion  ;  and  during  his  uneasy  sleep 
Mrs.  Somers  noticed  how  worn  he  was,  and  her 
heart  brimmed  with  gratitude,  and  smote  her  with 
remorse. 

But  on,  and  on,  and  on,  rattle,  and  clatter,  and 
rumble,  shriek  of  whistle  and  rush  of  steam,  the 
mighty  crank  and  the  quivering  wheel,  conscious 
of  the  dreadful  noise  at  times,  and  conscious  also 
of  the  appalling  silence  caused  by  the  absence  of 
human  voices,  rendering  an  account  to  herself  of 
all  this,  and  then  slipping  away  from  it,  as  it  were, 
into  the  outer  darkness  of  a  doze,  into  the  sweet 
oblivion  of  snatches  of  sleep  from  which  the  in- 
clination of  the  train  as  it  swept  round  a  curve 
would  rouse  her  with  a  start,  and  rouse  her  com- 


44  SMG  ULA  RL  Y  DEL  UDE&. 

panlon  too,  whose  eyes  met  hers  as  they  opened, 
making  it  appear  as  if  he  had  been  watching  her 
in  her  sleep. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  very  tired,"  he  said  more 
than  once,  but  quietly  ignored  his  own  fatigue 
when  she  ventured  to  observe  it.  After  one  of 
these  momentary  awakenings  into  full  conscious- 
ness, it  always  seemed  as  if  some  important  inci- 
dent had  occurred  refreshing  them  both.  Mrs. 
Somers  would  straighten  herself  then  and  look 
about  her,  and  it  would  seem  as  if  the  flickering 
yellow  light  of  the  lamp  burnt  brighter.  But  she 
would  sink  back  inevitably  into  her  old  attitude, 
the  light  would  fade  into  sickly  dimness,  Lord 
Wartlebury's  head  would  nod,  and  his  whole  body 
sway  to  one  side,  little  by  little,  down,  down, 
down,  till  she  almost  started  from  her  seat  to  save 
him  from  falling  against  the  glass,  and  it  seemed 
a  miracle  that  he  should  have  recovered  himself 
with  no  more  sign  of  waking  than  the  half  open- 
ing of  his  eyes  that  saw  not,  the  perfect  inward 
vision  of  the  soul  having  for  the  time  being  re- 
placed the  uncertain  feeble  outlook  of  the  body. 
Then  the  regular  beat  of  the  machinery  would 
affect  her  mind,  shaping  itself  into  a  rhythmic 
measure  which  presently  took  words  to  itself  and 
became  a  silent  song — "When  the  day  breaks, 
and  the  shadows  flee  away,"  it  said  ;  "  when  the 
day  breaks,  and  the  shadows  flee,"  but  nothing 
else.  Over  and  over  again,  her  mi^3  involuntarily 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  45 

repeated  it,  at  first  finding  rest  and  relaxation  in 
the  mechanical  formula,  and  then  being  wearied 
by  it  because  it  was  mechanical,  then  banishing 
it  for  an  instant  by  an  effort  of  will,  but  glad  to 
have  it  back  again  when  it  returned  of  its  own 
accord,  replacing  painful  thoughts  with  a  monot- 
ony which  was  soothing  once  more  in  comparison, 
and  then  benumbing,  the  cause  of  more  moments 
of  blissful  unconsciousness.  "  "When  the  day 
breaks,  and  the  shadows  flee  away  ;  when  the  day 
breaks,  and  the  shadows  flee."  It  was  with  her 
still,  and  seemed  to  rouse  her,  as  the  train  glided 
into  the  London  terminus  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  they  found  themselves  at  their 
journey's  end  at  last. 

But  a  few  minutes  sufficed  after  that  for  Lord 
Wartlebury  to  see  her  and  her  luggage  safely  into 
a  cab. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear  child  !"  the  old  gen- 
tleman said,  as  he  shook  hands  with  her ;  "  and 
may  you  find  matters  much  better  than  you  have 
dared  to  hope  when  you  arrive.  There  is  a  card 
with  my  address.  I  shall  be  anxious  to  hear  from 
you,  and  shall  wait  in  London  until  I  find  that  I 
can  be  of  no  more  use." 

Then  all  at  once  she  was  overcome  by  his  great 
goodness.  She  could  not  speak  to  thank  him, 
but  she  did  a  better  thing.  She  grasped  his 
withered  hand  in  both  of  hers  and  kissed  it  fer- 
vently, and  Vw  deed  was  more  eloquent  than  any 


4.6  SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

word.  As  the  cab  drove  off,  Lord  Wartlebury 
stood  in  the  damp  chill  morning  air,  an  indistinct 
figure  in  the  murky  fog-bedimmed  gas-light, 
looking  after  it,  and  then  he  looked  at  his  hand, 
which  still  had  the  sensation  of  the  grateful  im- 
press of  her  fresh  young  lips  upon  it,  and  sighed. 
And  he  sighed,  not  because  he  was  weary,  though 
weary  enough  he  was  in  all  conscience,  but  be- 
cause, with  all  his  wealth  and  greatness,  he  did 
no,  find  it  possible  to  do  a  good  deed  every  day 
and  reap  the  reward  of  it. 

As  she  rattled  away  in  the  cab,  Gertrude 
Sorners  found  herself  entering  upon  a  new  phase 
of  emotion.  So  far  she  had  /<?/£  keenly,  but  she 
had  scarcely  thought  at  all,  or  anticipated  any- 
thing that  might  yet  happen,  or  speculated 
about  what  had  occurred  already,  except  to  the 
extent  necessary  to  form  the  few  practical  meas- 
ures she  had  adopted,  and  to  carry  them  out. 
Now,  however,  her  mind  suddenly  awoke.  She 
began  to  think  and  wonder,  and  particularly  to 
notice  every  object  she  saw,  as  if  any  one  of 
them  might  unexpectedly  prove  of  use  to  her 
by  furthering  her  search.  She  had  never  seen 
the  streets  of  London  at  such  an  hour  before, 
and  now  she  was  struck  by  the  strangeness  of 
their  appearance,  even  the  most  familiar  having 
lost  character  and  identity  by  reason  of  the  un- 
wonted solitude  and  silence  which  reigned  su- 
preme. Here  and  there  she  passed  a  policeman, 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  '  47 

here  and  there  a  man  and  woman  standing  close 
together  in  drunken  degraded  intimacy ;  once 
the  light  from  the  cab-lamp  flashed  for  a  mo- 
ment on  the  figure  of  a  young  girl,  cowering  in 
the  deep  shadow  of  a  doorway,  in  the  attitude  of 
a  breathless  hunted  creature  awaiting  its  doom  in 
helpless  terror.  Gertrude  saw  the  face  distinctly  : 
it  haunted  her  afterward  for  many  a  day  ;  and 
even  at  the  time,  with  such  a  weight  of  anxious 
doubt  and  dread  oppressing  her,  she  was  forced 
to  acknowledge  that  what  she  felt  herself  was  as 
nothing  to  the  misery  that  she  saw.  But  in  the 
more  decorous  parts  of  the  city  through  which 
ghe  passed,  where  the  sameness  of  the  architec- 
ture suggested  a  monotonous  propriety,  as  if  the 
people  had  hit  upon  one  pattern  for  their  man- 
sions and  their  manners,  from  which  they  dared 
not  trust  themselves  to  diverge  an  inch,  because 
they  knew  that  unless  they  bound  themselves 
down  by  iron  rules  there  would  be  no  depending 
on  them — in  these  solitudes  there  were  no  living 
creatures  abroad  save  the  occasional  policeman 
and  the  universal  cat,  something  machine-like 
in  the  steady  gait  of  the  former  making  him 
seem  less  like  a  human  being  than  a  part  of  the 
constructive  force  of  the  city ;  and  something 
uncanny  and  not  accounted  for  in  the  presence 
of  the  cats,  in  their  Sittings  to  and  fro,  in  the 
way  they  peered  up  through  area  railings,  or 
dropped  on  velvet  paws,  unshaken,  from  incre4- 


4&  StNG  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDE&. 

ible  heights,  or  wandered  with  confidence  round 
ledges  so  narrow  that,  when  such  small  space 
sufficed,  it  would  scarcely  have  been  marvelous 
if  they  had  gone  on  without  any  foothold  at  all ; 
their  gambols,  too,  their  demoniac  disagreements, 
and  the  wails  with  which  they  announced  the 
success  of  some  of  their  enterprises,  as  if,  like 
man  himself,  they  were  doomed  to  disappoint- 
ment even  in  the  gratification  of  their  fondest 
hopes,  realization  falling  so  far  short  of  anticipa- 
tion as  to  be  a  punishment  in  itself — all  this,  seen 
and  suggested  to  Gertrude  as  she  passed,  made 
their  presence  another  sign  of  solitude,  an  addi- 
tion to  the  strangeness  in  which  the  night  and 
stillness  had  already  muffled  the  well-known 
world  past  recognition. 

But  still,  curiously  enough,  she  had  not  ex- 
pected to  find  anything  unusual  at  home.  Her 
thoughts  were  quite  busy  with  what  she  saw  ;  her 
imagination  had  not  at  all  outrun  her  rate  of 
progress  ;  and  now,  when  the  cab  pulled  up  at  her 
own  door,  it  was  with  quite  a  shock  that  she  rec- 
ognized the  strangeness  here  also.  Her  own  home 
had  lost  the  individuality  that  made  it  home.  It 
was  one  of  a  row  of  tall  houses  with  large  porti- 
coes, and  looked  now  exactly  like  the  rest,  with 
close-drawn  blinds,  hiding  curtain  or  flower-stand 
or  other  trifle  that  might  have  been  familiar, 
without  a  light  even  in  the  hall,  with  nothing  to 
distinguish  it,  in  fact,  except  the  number.  She 


SJNG ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  49 

got  out  of  the  cab  and  stood  for  a  moment  look- 
ing up  at  the  windows,  and  felt  that  they  in  turn 
looked  down  at  her  with  a  sort  of  answer  in  every 
pane,  and  in  the  blank,  the  unresponsive,  the  un- 
welcoming silence.  "He  has  not  come." 

She  knew  it  in  her  heart  before  she  rang,  and  yet 
she  rang,  and  rang  again,  and  fancied  she  heard 
a  footfall  in  the  empty  house,  was  sure  he  was 
there,  was  coming,  would  open  the  door,  and  all 
would  be  right  again  directly.  But  oh  !  the 
change  of  such  a  return  to  her  happy  home  !  the 
contrast  between  this  cruel  uncertainty,  this  cold 
repulse,  and  the  tender  love  with  which  she  had 
been  received  at  other  times  ;  it  made  her  feel 
like  an  outcast. 

" Leslie  !  Leslie  I"  she  cried,  and  it  seemed  to 
her  as  if  she  had  not  until  that  moment  at  all 
realized  the  full  extent  of  her  trouble.  The  cab- 
man, a  stout  old  fellow  in  multitudinous  wrap- 
pings, with  a  face  which  had  apparently  assumed 
fat  as  a  disguise,  so  completely  were  the  features 
obliterated  by  it,  and  a  voice  that  resembled  the 
squeak,, and  rumble  of  his  own  cab-wheels,  had 
stood  on  the  pavement  watching  her,  and  now  he 
observed,  "  It  seems  "they're  all  from  home." 

'Gertrude  turned  to  him.     "He  may  be  at  his 
chambers/'  she   said.     "Drive  me   there,"   and 
gave  him  the  address. 
4 


50  SfATG  UL  ARL  Y  DEL  I'D  ED. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  old  man  scrambled  on  to  his  box  with 
cheerful  alacrity,  rot  tlif-liliing  (lie  job  apparently, 
and  the  cab  rumbled  off  again  with  its  anxious 
occupant. 

Her  thoughts  lui,l  takou  a  uo-.v  departure  now. 
She  no  longer  noted  the  aspects  of  the  streets  as 
the  e;;b  crauioJ  ou.  ''He  must  be  at  his  cham- 
bers," she  insisted  to  herself,  "  because,  where  else 
can  he  be  ?  "  and  then  the  desire  to  find  him  there 
became  a  fervent  prayer  that  she  might.  There, 
at  least,  this  terrible  uncertainty  would  be  over, 
and  she  knew  she  could  bear  anything  better  than 
suspense.  The  present  trouble  generally  seems 
harder  to  bear  than  any  we  can  think  of,  and  we 
are  ever  ready  to  change  it. 

The  cab  pulled  up  at  last  at  the  door  of  a  great 
dingy  abode  in  that  quarter  of  the  city  where 
barristers  most  do  congregate,  and  here  again 
something  unfamiliar  in  the  aspect  of  the  place 
struck  her  at  once,  causing  her  heart  to  sink, 
though  it  was  some  seconds  before  she  knew  what 
the  trifling  change  was  that  made  as  great  a  dif- 
ference in  the  appearance  of  the  house  as  a  wholly 
new  expression  would  on  a  well-known  face.  It 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  5 1 

was  a  very  trifle  after  all,  being  merely  the  fact 
that  the  door  was  shut,  and  she  had  always  been 
accustomed  to  see  it  open.  The  house  was  dark 
too.  Her  husband's  chambers  were  on  the  second 
floor,  looking  into  the  street.  The  blinds  were 
close  drawn,  and  the  whole  house  looked  ghostlier 
and  more  deserted  than  the  other  had  done. 
There  was  a  row  of  bell-knobs  on  the  right-hand 
door-post,  with  different  names  above,  and  she 
pulled  the  one  beneath  her  husband's  name.  It 
was  a  forlorn  hope,  he  might  be  there  ;  but  still, 
when  she  had  waited  a  certain  time,  she  gave  up 
the  attempt  without  any  feeling  of  surprise.  He 
was  not  there,  and  now,  because  she  scarcely  felt 
disappointed,  she  thought  she  could  not  really 
have  expected  to  find  him. 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  she  said,  turning  in 
her  perplexity  to  the  cabman,  who  gazed  at  her 
in  turn,  out  of  his  indistinct  moon-like  vagueness 
of  features,  with  a  calm  neutrality  that  was  at 
first  exasperating  ;  but  there  was  a  human  being 
behind  that  mask  of  flesh,  a  slow-thinking  ma- 
chine, that  could  feel  for  a  fellow-creature  on 
occasion,  although  he  recognized  no  difference  of 
degree,  and  habitually  confounded  age,  sex,  and 
rank,  classing  them  all  as  fares,  good  or  bad,  in  a 
common  category  according  to  the  way  they  paid. 
"  We  left  a  woman  in  charge  of  the  house,"  Ger- 
trude further  explained.  "She  ought  to  have 
been  there  to  let  me  in." 


52  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

"  Well,  there  was  no  one  there,  Til  take  my 
dick/'  the  cabman  said.  "  I  know  the  sound  of  a 
bell  in  an  empty  house.  One  human  bein'  makes 
all  the  difference,  and  there's  nobody  here 
neither." 

Then  they  both  looked  up  at  the  house  for 
some  seconds. 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  Gertrude  repeated. 

"  Hev  you  no  friends  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  plenty." 

"  Then  go  to  them  as  lives  nearest,"  the  cab- 
man disinterestedly  growled  forth. 

"  What  !  at  this  time  of  night  !  "  Gertrude  ex- 
claimed. We  seem  to  have  so  many  friends,  and 
yet  in  great  emergencies  how  few  there  are  to 
whom  we  feel  entitled  to  apply  for  special  help  1 
"  I  couldn't  possibly  disturb  any  one  so  late.  And 
besides,  how  should  I  explain  ?  "  Then  she  re- 
membered that  she  must  not  explain,  which  would 
in  any  case  have  settled  the  question. 

"  Well,  Miss,  I  should  say  then  that  a  respect- 
able hothell  would  be  the  place  for  yew,"  the 
cabman  further  advised,  with  grave  deliberation, 
"  if  you  can  get  in  ;  but  I  very  much  misdoubt 
it,  though  you  hey  a  tidy  bit  of  luggage.  But 
you  see,  it  being  the  season,  every  place  is  chock- 
full.  Howsumever,  yew  can  but  try." 

Gertrude  looked  up  at  the  dingy  house  again. 

"  I  suppose  I  can  do  no  more  till  daylight,"  she 
said,  thinking  of  her  husband.  "  Drive  me  then, 


SftfG ULA&LY  DEL UDED.  53 

please,  to  some  respectable  place — the  nearer  the 
better.     I  am  very  tired." 

So  away  they  rumbled  again,  first  to  a  large 
hotel  close  by,  then  to  another  a  little  further  off, 
then  to  three,  one  after  another,  that  seemed  quite 
close  together  ;  then  on,  and  on,  and  on,  again, 
till  it  seemed  to  Gertrude  as  if  she  had  been  driv- 
ing for  ages  in  that  cab,  and  would  go  on  so  for- 
ever ;  but  nowhere  could  she  get  a  room,  or  even 
a  sofa  to  rest  upon  till  morning.  The  cabman's 
patience  seemed  unending,  but  he  stopped  at  last 
in  despair,  and  came  to  the  door.  The  darkness  was 
paling  by  this  time,  the  morning  air  was  fresh  but 
keen  ;  day  was  at  hand,  and  the  gas  in  the  streets 
looked  belated  already,  and  yet  was  missed  when 
suddenly  the  lamps  went  out.  The  cabman  looked 
at  his  pale  fare,  and  felt  a  fatherly  compassion. 

"  It's  no  use  go'in'  on,"  he  said  ;  "  but  if  you'd 
take  a  nap  in  the  cab  now  ?  " 

Gertrude  answered  him  with  the  ghost  of  a 
smile.  "  How  do  you  manage  yourself  ?  "  she 
said.  "  Do  you  go  on  all  night  long  like  this,  and 
every  night  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  was  the  unusually  quick  response. 
Probably  the  fact,  as  seen  from  her  point  of  view, 
surprised  him.  "  Only  sometimes  it  rains,"  he 
added,  "  and  sometimes  I  don't  make  a  breakfast 
for  the  old  hoss  out  of  all  I  get." 

"  Ah,  then  this  is  a  good  night's  work  ?  "  she 
said. 


5 4  SING ULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

"  "Well,  yes,"  he  answered,  as  if  that  too  had 
never  occurred  to  him. 

"  Where  are  we  ?  " 

He  named  the  locality. 

"  Why," she  exclaimed,  "my  sister-in-law  lives 
here,  at  No.  34.  How  can  I  have  been  so  stupid ! 
I  never  thought  of  her.  Drive  me  there,  please, 
at  once." 

Some  one  opened  an  upper  widow,  and  looked 
out  in  answer  to  the  cabman's  ring. 

"  Let  me  in,  Annie  !  It  is  I,  Gertrude,"  she 
called. 

"  Good  heavens  !  what  has  happened  ?  "  she 
heard  her  sister-in-law  exclaim  as  she  left  the  win- 
dow. In  a  few  seconds  she  opened  the  door  herself, 
and  embraced  her  brother's  wife,  but  asked  no  ques- 
tion until  they  were  alone  together.  "You  are  a 
good  old  man,"  Gertrude  said  to  the  cabman  as  she 
paid  him.  "  Come  for  me  to-morrow  morning — 
this  morning — at  nine  o'clock.  I  may  have  many 
places  to  go  to.  Bring  afresh  horse."  Then  she 
turned  to  enter  the  house,  but  stumbled,  and  fell 
fainting  on  the  threshold.  The  cabman  helped 
Miss  Somers  to  carry  her  into  the  dining-room. 
They  laid  her  on  the  sofa,  and  then  Miss  Somers 
showed  the  man  out.  She  had  not  questioned  him 
either,  and  one  glance  at  her  plain,  but  pleasant, 
resolute  face  would  have  accounted  for  her  silence. 
She  was  a  woman  who  could  bide  her  time,  and 
one  not  given  to  crying  ovet  spilt  milk  when  she 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  55 

saw  it  was  spilt,  and  certainly  not  before  she  knew 
that  there  was  any  occasion. 

"  You  were  quite  right  to  come  to  me,  dear 
Gertie/'  she  said,  when  the  latter  was  sensible 
again.  "  If  there  is  any  trouble — if  I  can  help 
you  in  any  way — it  was  kind  of  you  to  come  to 
me  ;  "  and  Gertrude  knew  that  she  had  never  prop- 
erly appreciated  her  sister-in-law  till  now.  She 
had  thought  her  strong  ;  she  had  known  she  was 
good,  but  anything  like  this  large  unquestioning 
charity,  this  readiness  to  relieve  trouble  without 
seeking  or  apparently  suspecting  cause  for  blame, 
she  had  been  quite  unprepared  to  find  in  her — or 
in  anybody,  perhaps.  So  far,  however,  she  had 
met  with  nothing  but  kindness  in  her  trouble  ; 
the  very  cabman  even  was  good  to  her  ;  but  it 
does  so  happen  sometimes  in  cases  of  great  mis- 
fortune— all  the  little  worries  cease,  the  business 
of  life  arranges  itself  to  perfection,  and  everything 
comes  right  but  the  one  thing  needful. 

Yet  a  reason  for  her  sister-in-law's  abstinence 
occurred  to  her.  Perhaps  she  knew  already — he 
might  even  be  here.  "  Is  he  ?  "  Gertrude  ex- 
claimed, jumping  up  from  the  sofa  at  the  happy 
thought. 

"  Is  who  ?  what  ?  "  the  elder  lady  asked. 

"  Leslie — is  he  here  ?    Oh,  I  hope  he  is  here  !  " 

"  Leslie  is  not  here,"  was  the  decisive  re- 
sponse. 

Gertrude  sank  back  on  the  sofa. 


56  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

"  And  you  must  come  to  bed  at  once." 

"  0,  but  I  must  tell  you  first,"  Gertrude  pro- 
tested, making  an  effort  to  rouse  herself. 

"  On  the  way,  then — come  !  " 

And  while  she  helped  her  to  undress  Gertrude 
told  the  story.  Miss  Somers  heard  it  almost  in  si- 
lence. She  was  one  of  those  women  who  are  born 
to  be  nurses,  and  instinctively  knew  better  than 
to  excite  one  who  had  borne  so  much  already  with 
useless  comments  and  conjectures.  When  Ger- 
trude was  in  bed,  -she  made  her  drink  a  glass  of 
wine,  and  then  she  spoke  decisively. 

"  You  must  not  puzzle  your  brain  any  more  to- 
night," she  said.  "  Go  to  sleep,  and  trust  me  to 
worry  and  surmise  enough  for  both  of  us,  until 
you  awake  refreshed.  Poor  child,  what  a  state 
your  arms  are  in  !  " 

"  Oh,  do  let  me  talk  !  "  Gertrude  exclaimed. 
"  I  am  in  pain  all  over.  Every  muscle  in  my  body 
is  wrenched,  and  I  am  a  mass  of  bruises.  You 
cannot  expect  me  to  sleep  in  such  a  state.  And 
.besides,  I  may  think  of  something  if  Hie  awake." 

But  even  as  she  spoke  her  eyelids  drooped,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  she  slumbered  peacefully  under 
the  influence  of  the  opiate  Miss  Somers  had 
wisely  given  her. 

"  We  won't  have  any  brain  fever  here  at  all 
events,"  that  lady  said  to  herself,  as  she  quietly 
drew  down  the  blind,  and  went  to  her  dressing- 
room,  where,  as  she  carefully  dressed  herself  for 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  ff 

the  day,  she  certainly  worried  and  surmised  enough 
for  both  of  them. 

Moon,  the  cabman,  duly  arrived  at  nine  o'clock, 
and  Miss  Somers  thought  she  might,  under  the 
circumstances,  venture  to  write  to  Lord  Wartle- 
bury  herself  to  tell  him  where  Gertrude  was,  as 
she  had  promised  to  let  him  know.  She  sent 
Moon  with  the  note,  to  save  time,  and  was  not 
exactly  surprised  when,  an  hour  later,  her  butler 
announced,  "  The  Earl  of  Wartlebury,"  and 
showed  that  nobleman  into  the  breakfast  room. 

"  How  kind  of  you  !  "  Miss  Somers  exclaimed. 
"  I  dare  say  you  have  not  even  breakfasted  ? 
But  breakfast  is  just  coming  up.  Do,  pray,  have 
some,"  and  so  they  sat  down  together,  to  the  most 
intimate  meal  of  the  day,  these  two  people,  who 
had  never  seen  each  other  in  their  lives  before ; 
and  in  ten  minutes  the  courtly  old  gentleman, 
with  his  bald  head,  piercing  eyes,  and  waxed 
mustache,  had  conceived  a  regard  for  this  un- 
affected, straightforward,  middle-aged  gentle- 
woman which  lasted  for  life.  She  was  tall  and 
thin  and  large-boned,  with  an  uncertain  complex- 
ion, and  much  gray  in  her  coarse  abundant  dark 
hair,  and  her  face  was  plain,  as  we  have  said, 
but  pleasant,  especially  when  she  smiled  and 
showed  her  teeth,  which  were  white  and  regular  ; 
yet  with  all  her  disadvantages  she  was  a  more  at- 
tractive woman  than  many  better-looking  ones, 
here  being  something  in  the  scrupulous  neatness 


58  SINGULA RL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

of  her  dress,  and  in  the  way  she  looked  you  in 
the  face,  which  made  you  know  without  a  doubt 
that  she  was  an  honest,  pure-minded  woman,  with- 
out arrierepensee,  or  any  thought  of  evil — a  gentle- 
woman, in  fact. 

"And  you  tell  me  she  only  arrived  at  five 
o'clock  ! "  Lord  Wartlebury  said.  "  I  never 
dreamt  of  her  not  being  able  to  get  into  her 
own  house,  or  I  certainly  should  not  have  left  her 
at  the  station. " 

"Indeed  I  think  she  feels  she  has  imposed 
too  much  on  your  good-nature  as  it  is,"  Miss 
Somers  said.  ' '  We  can  never  thank  you  enough 
for  your  kindness." 

"  Oh — pooh  !  that  is  nothing.  I  wish  I  could 
feel  that  I  had  been  of  some  use." 

"  She  has  been  sleeping  soundly  since  six 
o'clock,"  Miss  Somers  pursued,  "  and,  of  course, 
she  must  have  her  sleep  out ;  but  is  there  noth- 
ing I  can  do  in  the  mean  time  ?  " 

Before  Lord  Wartlebury  could  answer,  the  door 
opened,  and  Gertrude  herself  appeared,  with  a 
pale  face,  and  big  black  circles  round  her  eyes, 
but  neat  and  composed,  as  she  had  been  the 
day  before. 

"I  feel  quite  fresh,"  she  said,  "and  shall  be 
glad  of  some  breakfast,  and  some  strong  hot 
colToo,  Annie,  please.  I  am  not  in  the  least  sur- 
prhod  to  see  you,  Lord  Wartlebury  I  suppose 
Annie  told  you  I-fras  here,  and  it  .was  just  like 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  59 

yon  to  come.  But  do  you  know,  I  think  I  have 
made  a  mistake.  I  don't  think  I  ought  to  have 
left  the  cottage.  I  fancy  he  must  have  returned 
by  this  time,  and  is  probably  anxious  about 
me." 

Lord  Wartlebury  took  a  telegram  out  of  his 
pocket. 

"It  is  perhaps  better  not  to  encourage  false 
hopes,"  he  said.  "Dr.  Mansell  telegraphed  to 
me  this  morning  to  tell  me  that  they- had  con- 
tinued their  search,  but  had  found  no  further 
trace." 

"He  may  have  gone  to  consult  his  doctor/' 
Gertrude  suggested,  after  some  moments'  thought. 
"  I  will  go  at  once  and  see." 

It  was  a  well-known  consulting  physician  to 
whom  she  went,  and  by  a  fortunate  accident  she 
found  him  disengaged,  and  able  to  see  her. 

"  Doctor,  has  my  husband  been  here  ? "  she 
began  abruptly. 

"  Your  husband  ?  " 

"Leslie  Somers,"  she  explained. 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course.  I  have  not  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  before,  you  know."  He 
unlocked  a  case-book,  and  found  what  he  wanted. 
"  Oh,  yes,  he  was  here  exactly  six  weeks  ago  to- 
day." 

Her  countenance  fell.  "And  yon  have  not 
seen  him  since  ?  " 

"No." 


6$  SINGVLARL  Y  £>J5L UDED. 

"  Perhaps  I  had  better  tell  you  why  I  ask,"  and 
she  proceeded  to  explain. 

The  doctor  listened  with  grave  attention.  "It 
is  a  curious  affair,"  he  observed,  "but  not  un- 
precedented. Your  husband  was  suffering  from 
the  effects  of  overwork.  I  certainly  did  not  ap- 
prehend any  serious  trouble,  but  such  a  thing 
was  quite  possible,  and  I  advised  him  to  be 
most  careful.  Had  he  any  fancy,  any  morbid 
notion— any  persistent  idea,  in  a  word,  which 
amounted  to  a  delusion  ?" 

"  No,  nothing  that  I  know  of— and  I  think  I 
should  have  known.  He  seemed  to  have  bene- 
fited very  much  by  the  change,  and  was  in  ex- 
cellent spirits." 

"  I  had  a  somewhat  similar  case  some  years 
ago,"  the  doctor  said,  "and  I  tell  you  about  it 
in  order  to  show  you  that  there  is  no  real  cause 
for  alarm.  It  was  also  a  case  of  overwork,  that 
of  a  clergyman  with  a  "large  parish — a  con- 
scientious man,  who  had  toiled  day  and  night 
during  an  epidemic  of  typhus  fever.  He  came 
to  me  complaining  of  great  depression,  and  I  ad- 
vised rest  and  change  of  scene,  and  also  pre- 
scribed for  his  general  health,  which  was  quite 
below  par.  Well,  he  went  to  a  seaside  place  with 
his  wife  and  family,  just  as  your  husband  seems 
to  have  done,  and  the  next  thing  I  heard  of  him 
was  that  he  had  disappeared.  Of  course  his 
friends  were  in  a  terrible  state  of  anxiety  about 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  6l 

him,  detectives  were  employed,  and  the  case  got 
into  the  papers.  They  traced  him  to  London, 
but  further  than  that  they  could  obtain  no  clew 
to  his  whereabouts,  and  after  eighteen  months' 
search,  they  began  to  fear  that  he  must  be  dead. 
But  about  that  time  a  friend  of  his,  an  animal 
painter,  went  to  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  to 
make  studies  of  cattle,  and  one  day,  while  he 
was  so  engaged,  he  happened  to  get  into  con- 
versation with  the  drover,  and  to  his  great  sur- 
prise he  recognized  the  man  at  once  as  the  miss- 
ing parson.  'Why,  you're  So-and-so!'  he  ex- 
claimed. '  Am  I  indeed  ? '  the  poor  fellow  replied. 
'  "Well  I  am  deeply  grateful  to  you  for  telling  me, 
for  I  could  not  remember  who  on  earth  I  was,  or 
where  I  had  intended  to  go,  one  day  when  I  set 
out  on  a  journey,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  be- 
come a  drover  in  order  to  earn  my  living.'  He 
was  of  course  restored  to  his  friends  immediately, 
and  with  proper  treatment  he  soon  recovered,  and 
is  as  right  as  I  am  at  the  present  moment. 
Now  it  seems  to  me  that  your  husbands  is  a 
very  similar  case,  and  I  have  no  doubt  it  will 
end  as  happily." 

Gertrude  put  two  guineas  on  the  table,  and  left 
the  house  greatly  relieved.  The  doctor's  cheery, 
confident  manner  had  perhaps  never  raised  any 
poor  patient's  spirits  higher  than  hers  went  up 
under  the  influence  of  the  hope  he  held  out  to 
her.  She  felt  she  had  a  clew  to  the  whole  enigma 


62  SING  ULA  RL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

now  ;  and  the  rest — the  finding  of  her  husband 
— seemed  easy  after  that.  She  knew  he  had  come 
to  London,  she  knew  which  station  he  must  have 
arrived  at,  and  she  would  go  there  at  once  and 
inquire.  Somebody  must  have  seen  him.  When 
she  arrived  at  the  great  crowded  terminus,  she 
found  that  the  task  was  easier  in  anticipation 
than  in  reality.  She  had  come  to  inquire ;  but 
how  should  she  begin  ?  to  whom  should  she  ap- 
ply ?  She  must  first  find  out  the  platform  at  which 
the  midday  train  stopped  yesterday.  Perhaps 
she  would  find  the  same  staff  of  officials  there  to- 
day, and  she  would  ask  every  one  of  them  to  make 
sure. 

"  Guard,  did  you  happen  to  notice  if  a  tall 
gentleman,  clean-shaved,  with  reddish  hair,dressed 
in  a  light  tweed  suit,  came  by  the  midday  train 
from  Trewport  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Yesterday  ! "  the  man  answered,  with  scant 
courtesy.  "  Bless  you,  Miss,  dozens  of  such  gen- 
tleman arrive  every  day."  Another  guard  came 
up  at  the  moment,  and  he  appealed  to  him. 
"  Here,  Dawlish  !  you  were  on  duty  here  yester- 
day." 

"  No,  I  wasn't,"  the  man  answered.  "  I 
brought  up  the  midday  train  from  Trewport." 

"  Oh,  then  !  "  Gertrude  exclaimed,  taking  out 
her  purse,  "you  can  surely  tell  me  if  my  husband 
was  among  the  passengers;"  and  she  described 
him. 


SING  ULARLY  DEL  VDED.  63 

The  guard  scratched  his  head.  "  "Would  he  be 
a  bit  queer  ?  "  he  said. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  queer." 

"  No  offense,  ma'am.  Only  if  he  talked  loud, 
and  didn't  seem  to  be  particular  about  where  he 
was  going ?  " 

"  That  might  have  been  the  case,"  she  an- 
swered ;  "  and  what  I  want  to  know  is,  where  he 
went  ?  " 

Several  porters  had/joined  the  group  by  this 
time.  "  I  say,  Bill,"  one  of  them  now  interposed, 
"  wasn't  that  gentleman  you  sent  to  St.  Pan- 
eras  yesterday,  when  he  asked  which  was  the 
station  for  Southampton,  dressed  in  a  light  tweed 
suit?" 

"  He  were,"  said  Bill. 

"And  do  you  mean  to  say  you  sent  him  to 
St.  Pancras  for  Southampton,  you  blessed  block- 
head ?  "  the  surly  guard  demanded. 

"Ah  did,"  was  the  calm  reply,  "and  ah  saw 
him  off  in  a  hansom  on  his  way  to  St.  Pancras, 
and  ah  hope  he  got  there  safe." 

There  was  a  laugh  at  this  sally. 

"  Did  you  happen  to  notice  the  number  of  the 
hansom  ?  "  Gertrude  asked. 

"Noa,  but  ah  noticed  the  man  as  druv  it ;  and 
here  he  comes  by  the  same  betoken,"  the  porter 
concluded,  pointing  to  a  hansom  that  was  just  re- 
turning to  the  stand. 

Gertrude  went  to  the  driver  and  repeated  her 


64  SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDEt). 

inquiries.  Yes,  he  had  taken  the  gentleman  she 
described  to  St.  Pancras  yesterday  morning.  The 
gentleman  got  down  and  asked  a  porter  what  time 
the  next  fast  train  left  for  Southampton,  and  the 
porter  sorter  grinned  at  him,  and  told  him  he  was  in 
the  wrong  box  for  Southampton,  and  had  better 
try  Waterloo.  The  gentleman  seemed  put  out,  but 
after  standing  011  the  pavement,  and  cussing  heav- 
en and  earth  for  five  minutes,  he  was  able  to  get 
into  the  hansom  again  and  go  to  Waterloo.  He 
didn't  get  out  there,  however ;  he  only  inquired 
about  the  trains,  and  -then  he  told  the  driver  to 
take  him  to  the  nearest  hotel,  and  there  the  man 
left  him.  He  had  no  luggage  with  him,  unless  it 
was  a  handbag,  but  the  driver  wasn't  sure  of  that 
even ;  he  hadn't  taken  particular  notice,  and 
couldn't  remember. 

Gertrude  got  into  the  hansom,  and  told  the 
man  to  take  her  to  that  hotel.  The  faithful 
Moon  had  brought  her  so  far,  and  was  waiting  for 
her,  but  she  had  forgotten  him.  He  had  assisted 
at  these  inquiries,  however,  and,  making  allowance 
for  the  lady's  preoccupation,  tumbled  on  to  his 
box  and  followed  the  hansom,  rightly  conjectur- 
ing that  she  would  think  of  him  in  time. 

Gertrude's  anxiety  had  given  way  now  to  a 
state  of  excitement  that  was  almost  pleasurable. 
She  was  on  the  right  track  sure  enough,  and  this 
detective  business  was  easier,  after  all,  than  she 
could  have  believed  possible.  She  could  ^nder- 


StNG ULARLY  DEL UDED.  '65 

stand,  too,  that  it  must  be  a  very  fascinating  pur- 
suit when  the  object  of  it  did  not  concern  you 
personally.  She  thought,  if  she  ever  had  to  work 
for  herself,  she  would  be  a  detective,  it  was  quite 
interesting  to  talk  to  so  many  queer  characters. 

But  now  the  hansom  stopped  at  the  door  of  a 
large  hotel,  and,  alighting  quickly,  she  ran  lightly 
up  the  steps,  and  into  the  great  bare  comfortless 
hall. 
5 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Ax  unctuous  official  came  forward  immediately, 
and  asked  her  if  she  wanted  rooms. 

"  No,"  she  answered.  "  I  am  looking  for  my 
husband.  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  he  is  here 
—or  at  least,  that  he  came  here  yesterday — about 
this  time  of  the  day." 

"  Oh  —  ah  —  mum  !  "  the  official  observed 
quickly.  "  Does  the  gentleman  expect  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Gertrude  answered  boldly ;  and  then, 
to  save  her  conscience,  she  added  :  "  He  is  most 
probably  looking  for  me,  because  1  was  not  sure 
which  hotel  he  would  come  to." 

"  What  name  did  you  say  ? "  the  man  asked, 
less  suspiciously. 

"  Mr.  Leslie  Somers." 

"  Pray  be  seated,  madam,  and  1*11  go  and  in- 
quire." He  returned  presently.  "  No  one  of 
that  name,madam,  has  ever  been  here,"  he  told  her. 

Gertrude's  heart  sank.  "  But  do  people  al- 
ways give  their  names  when  they  stay  so  short  a 
time  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Did  you  only  expect  the  gentleman  to  stay  a 
short  time  ?  " 

"It  is  just  possible  that  he  only  stayed  the 


S1NGULARL  Y  DELUDED.  67 

night,"  she  answered,  desperately.  "  He  was 
anxious  to  go  to  Southampton.  But  stay,  I  will 
tell  you  exactly  what  he  was  like,  and  you  will 
perhaps  know  whether  he  came  or  not." 

The  hall-porter  came  up  while  she  was  describ- 
ing him,  and  now  interrupted — 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  came  here  yesterday,  that  gen- 
tleman did.  I  noticed  him  particular,  because 
there's  so  few  gents  comes  as  is  clean-shaved 
nowadays,  only  priests.  Reddish  hair,  didn't  you 
say,  ma'am  ?  and  a  rowdy,  rollicking,  free-and- 
easy  sort  o*  happy-go-lucky  manner  ?  Drank 
brandies-and-sodas  all  the  time,  and  was  sweet  on. 
the  barmaid." 

Poor  Gertrude's  heart  sank  lower.  Was  it  pos- 
sible even  for  disease  to  change  any  one  so  per- 
fectly refined  as  Leslie,  and  so  generally  respected 
wherever  he  went  by  high  and  low,  into  a  crea- 
ture such  as  this,  with  manners  and  tastes  which 
lowered  him  to  the  level  of  the  commonest  peo- 
ple ?  It  seemed  impossible,  and  yet  from  the  time 
he  appeared  at  the  station  at  Trewport,  every  ac- 
count she  heard  of  his  conduct  agreed  in  this  re- 
spect. It  must  be  true. 

'*  If  that  was  the  gentleman,"  the  unctuous 
person  said,  "  he  did  come  here  about  this  time 
yesterday  ;  but  Somers  wasn't  the  name  he  gave." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  what  name  he  gave  ?  "  Ger- 
trude asked. 

The  man  hesitated.     "  Well,  madam,"  he  an- 


68  SING  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

swered,  "  we  do  not  generally  give  the  names  of 
people  who  stay  here  to  unknown  parties.  You 
Bee,  we  don't  know  what  use  they  might  make  of 
them." 

"  Oh  ! "  exclaimed  poor  Gertrude,  "  this  is 
wasting  precious  time.  Can  you  not  see,  sir,  that 
I  am  a  lady  ?  My  husband  is  not  right  in  his 
mind.  He  has  escaped  from  his  friends,  and  it  is 
of  the  utmost  consequence  that  I  should  find  him 
before  he  does  any  mischief  to  himself  or  others." 
Then  turning  to  the  hall-porter:  "I  think  you 
noticed  how  queer  his  manner  was  ?  " 

"  I  did,"  the  man  answered ;  "  but  I  thought 
he  was  the  worse  for  liquor." 

The  manager,  or  whatever  he  was,  now  lowered 
his  tone.  "  Of  course,  madam,"  he  said,  "  in  a 
case  of  this  kind  we  shall  consider  it  our  duty  to 
give  you  every  help  in  our  power.  I  will  go  and 
make  further  inquiries  about  the  gentleman." 

When  he  was  out  of  hearing,  Gertrude  ad- 
dressed herself  to  the  hall-porter,  speaking  rap- 
idly :  "  I  will  give  you  a  sovereign,"  she  said, 
"for  every  separate  piece  of  information  you  can 
give  me  about  that  gentleman.  What  did  he  call 
himself  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  ma'am,  but  he  had  a  bag  with 
L.  S.  on  it." 

"His  own  initials."  She  put  a  sovereign  in 
the  man's  hand.  "  Go  on/'  she  said.  "  Did  he 
say  where  he  was  going  ?  " 


S2NG ULARLY  DEL UDED.  69 

He  said  he  was  going  out  as  first  consul  to  San 
Francisco,  and  meant  to  see  all  he  could  of  the 
world  on  the  way,  as  he  wasn't  due  there  for  three 
months." 

She  gave  him  another  sovereign. 

"  He  left  here,"  the  man  continued,  "  about 
ten  minutes  before  you  came.  He  said  his  lug- 
gage was  at  Southampton,  and  he  meant  to  go  out 
by  P.  &  O.  I  put  his  bag  into  a  hansom  myself, 
ma'am,  and  told  the  driver  to  go  to  Waterloo. 
It's  not  half  an  hour  since,"  the  man  "concluded, 
glancing  at  the  clock. 

"  Good  heavens  ! "  Gertrude  exclaimed,  putting 
two  more  sovereigns  into  his  hand,  "  I  may  have 
missed  him." 

The  manager  now  came  back.  "  Mr.  Lawrence 
Soames "  he  began. 

She  caught  the  name,  but  had  jumped  into  the 
hansom,  and  was  on  her  way  back  to  Waterloo, 
before  he  could  add  another  word. 

Arrived  there,  she  threw  half  a  sovereign  at  the 
driver,  and  rushed  on  to  the  platform.  It  was 
crowded  with  passengers,  porters,  and  luggage,  a 
confused  mass  of  things  animate  and  inanimate,  all 
alike  struggling,  or  being  moved  in  every  direction 
— a  human  hash — with  shouts  and  laughter  :  here 
a  merry  family  party  off  for  a  change  of  air  ,  there 
a  young  couple,  with  maid-servant  and  man-serv- 
ant in  attendance,  evidently  somebodies,  but 
treated  with  little  ceremony  by  five  romping 


70  SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

schoolgirls  who  rushed  by,  separating  them  and 
the  whole  multitude  to  boot,  on  their  way  to  a 
second-class  carriage,  at  the  windows  of  which 
they  stood,  eating  buns,  and  enjoying  the  noise 
and  bustle. 

"  Is  this  the  Southampton  train  ?  Is  this  the 
Southampton  train  ?  "  Gertrude  asked  every  one, 
but  could  get  no  answer  at  first.  Then  one  man, 
whose  arm  she  grasped  in  her  eagerness,  said 
"  Yes/'  as  he  shook  her  off,  and  she  made  for  a 
carriage  ;  but  another  said  "  No  "  to  her  on  the 
way,  and  she  stopped  when  another  declared  he 
didn't  know,  but  thought  it  was,  which  made  the 
matter  doubtful  once  more,  and  again  she  began 
— "Is  this  the  Southampton  train?  "but  before 
she  received  an  answer  she  was  almost  lifted  off 
her  feet  by  the  sudden  swaying  of  the  crowd  to 
make  room  for  a  porter  with  a  mountain  of  lug- 
gage on  a  truck,  and  was  carried  from  the  door 
of  the  carriage,  beside  which  she  had  been  stand- 
ing, over  to  the  book-stall,  against  which  she  was 
pinned  for  some  seconds.  The  swaying  of  the 
crowd  in  the  opposite  direction  released  her,  only, 
however,  to  force  her  back  the  next  moment,  back, 
back,  struggle  as  she  would,  through  the  nearest 
entrance  this  time,  to  the  place  where  the  booking- 
offices  are.  Here  the  pressure  relaxed,  the  crowd 
thinned,  she  could  move  again  of  her  own  ac- 
cord. A  porter  hurried  past  her,  gumming  a 
printed  label  on  a  new-looking  Gladstone  bag  aa 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  71 

he  went.  There  were  two  black  letters  on  the  bag. 
She  looked  away  after  seeing  them,  before  the 
fact  struck  her  as  significant.  Then  she  looked 
again,  hurrying  forward  to  read  them,  and  just 
succeeded  as  the  porter  handed  the  bag  into  a 
first-class  carriage.  The  doors  were  shut  by  this 
time :  she  could  not  see  through  the  window  ;  but 
the  letters  on  the  bag  were  L.  S.,  and  she  made 
a  frantic  dash  for  that  carriage.  The  bell  rang  ; 
the  whistle  shrieked  ;  a  voice  shouted  "  All  in  ! " 
the  buzz  of  the  crowd  became  a  roar  ;  there  was 
a  rush  of  rough  men  from  the  refreshment- room  ; 
they  elbowed  her  to  one  side — "  The  weak  must 
go  to  the  wall " — and  gained  their  own  seats  ;  the 
train  began  to  move.  Conscious  of  nothing  but 
her  object,  she  pressed  forward  again — any  car- 
riage would  do  now — she  tried  to  catch  the 
handle  of  a  door  :  it  passed  her. 

"Look  out  there!"  "Stand  back!"  "She'll  be 
killed  ! "  a  dozen  voices  roared,  yet  she  tried  again. 
But  now  her  arms  were  grasped  on  either  side. 
She  put  forth  all  her  strength  to  release  herself, 
but  was  held  as  if  in  a  vice.  Then,  woman-like, 
ehe  sent  up  an  exceeding  great  and  bitter  cry,  and 
then  was  still.  The  train  had  slipped  from  sight ; 
the  crowd  had  melted  away  ;  a  strange  hush  had 
fallen,  a  lack  of  life,  where  all  had  been  uproar 
and  hurry  a  moment  before.  Her  captors  dropped 
her  arms.  She  pressed  her  handkerchief  to  her 
lips ;  her  mouth  was  full  of  blood.  The  guard 


72  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

who  had  held  her  on  one  side  looked  at  her  pity- 
ingly, while  the  gentleman  who  had  caught  her 
on  the  other  spoke  severely — 

"  You've  nearly  killed  yourself,  young  lady. 
Couldn't  you  let  the  train  go  when  you  saw  you 
had  missed  it  ?  " 

"  That's  the  way  they  do,  sir  !  "  the  guard  ex- 
claimed, "  and  we  gets  blamed  when  accidents 
happen. " 

"  Oh,  sir  !  "  Gertrude,  moaned,  clasping  her 
blood-stained  handkerchief  convulsively  to  her 
breast,  "  if  you  only  knew  how  much  depended 
on  my  catching  that  train  !  " 

The  gentleman  took  her  hand,  and  drew  it 
through  his  arm.  "Come,"  he  said,  "before  a 
crowd  collects.  Allow  me  to  see  you  into  a  cab. 
And  forgive  me  if  you  think  I  am  taking  too  much 
on  myself,  being  a  stranger  to  you.  I  have  a 
daughter  about  your  age.  I  am  afraid,  though, 
you  have  had  a  severe  shock.  You  can  hardly 
walk.  Try  and  get  as  far  as  the  refreshment- 
room,  at  all  events,  an;d  lean  on  me  as  much  as 
you  like.  A  glass  of  wine  will  revive  you." 

With  her  usual  good  luck,  Gertrude  had  found 
another  kind  friend  to  help  her  in  her  need,  and 
she  resigned  herself  to  his  ministrations  with  per- 
fect confidence,  as  she  sank  exhausted  into  the 
deep  luxurious  plush  armchair  to  which  he  led 
her  in  an  inner  room  behind  the  bar. 


SING ULARLY  DEL UDED.  73 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WHAT  with  the  strength  of  the  railway  wine, 
and  the  refreshing  quiet  of  the  room  in  which 
she  found  herself  after  the  hideous  nightmare  of 
turmoil  and  trouble  through  which  she  had  just 
passed,  Gertrude  rapidly  revived.  Her  new  pro- 
tector only  waited,  however,  till  he  saw  that  she 
was  able  to  take  care  of  herself  again,  and  then 
he  left  her.  He  had  a  train  to  catch  himself, 
and  had  waited  till  the  last  moment  on  her  ac- 
count. And  surely  it  was  a  heart  of  gold  that 
thus  befriended  an  unknown  girl,  because  he  had 
forsooth  a  daughter  of  his  own  at  home  about  her 
age  !  Gertrude  had  not  the  faintest  recollection 
of  his  face.  She  would  not  have  known  him  again 
had  she  met  him  anywhere.  She  would  not  even 
have  recognized  his  voice.  Yet  she  remembered"" 
him  always  gratefully,  but  always  with  a  pang — 
for  two  reasons.  In  her  preoccupation  she  had 
allowed  him  to  pay  for  that  glass  of  wine  for  her, 
and  she  feared  she  had  let  him  go  without  one 
word  of  thanks.  She  never  knew,  and  she  could 
only  hope  that  if  she  had,  he,  in  his  haste,  would 
not  notice  the  omission  ;  but  still,  when  she  re- 
membered the  incident,  the  dread  was  a  source  of 


74  SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

discomfort  to  her  as  long  as  she  lived.  It  was  not 
at  the  moment,  however,  that  this  fear  began  to 
trouble  her.  Just  then  she  could  think  of  nothing 
but  her  one  object,  and  how  to  accomplish  it ;  feel 
nothing  but  the  bitter  disappointment  caused  by 
having  missed  that  train.  The  thought  of  having 
been  so  near  to  him  without  even  seeing  him  was 
very  grievous,  but  the  feeling  that  every  moment 
was  taking  him  further  and  further  away  from  her, 
and  whither  she  knew  not,  was  simply  maddening. 
Yet  it  was  the  right  thought  to  arouse  her.  She 
had  little  or  no  imagination.  Her  mind  was  pre- 
eminently active  and  practical,  and  consequently, 
instead  of  following  her  husband  in  fancy,  as  nine 
out  of  ten  women  would  have  done  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, she  began  at  once  to  consider  how, 
ehe  could  follow  him  in  fact.  It  seemed  easy 
enough  at  the  first  glance.  She  had  only  to  take 
the  next  train,  and  behold  her  !  But  then  came 
the  question,  When  she  arrived,  where  in  South- 
ampton would  she  find  him,  if  he  stayed  there, 
which  was  not  at  all  likely  ?  What  was  it  they 
told  her  at  the  hotel  ?  Oh,  that  he  had  said  he 
was  going  out  as  English  consul  to  San  Francisco. 
Poor  fellow  !  That,  then,  was  his  delusion,  and 
was  it  not  also  her  clew  ?  A  man  bound  for  San 
Francisco  vid  Southampton — they  had  mentioned 
the  P.  &  0.  too — would  surely  be  easily  found. 
And  then  there  was  the  name  he  was  traveling 
under,  Lawrence  Soames — it  recurred  to  her  th« 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  75 

moment  she  wanted  it — L.  S.,  his  own  initials. 
They  were  on  the  purse  he  had  in  his  pocket  that 
fatal  morning,  and  probably,  like  that  poor  clergy- 
man, he  had  forgotten  what  they  stood  for,  or  was 
under  the  impression  that  the  first  two  names  that 
occurred  to  him  beginning  with  those  letters  were 
really  his.  That  new  Gladstone  bag,  too,  he  must 
have  bought  it  in  London ;  and  what  a  lucky 
chance !  for  without  it,  she  must  have  lost  all 
trace  of  him  here.  No,  though,  now  she  thought 
of  it,  for  she  knew  he  was  going  to  Southampton, 
and  wherefore.  And  accordingly  to  Southampton 
she  must  go  with  all  possible  despatch.  She  there- 
fore left  the  quiet  little  parlor  behind  the  bar,  and 
returned  to  the  station,  half  expecting  to  find  her- 
self in  pandemonium  again  ;  but  it  was  quiet 
enough  there  now.  The  principal  trains  of  the 
day  had  gone.  There  was  a  lull  in  the  traffic, 
scarcely  a  passenger  hung  about  the  station. 
The  officials  sat  on  trucks  or  stood  in  groups  chat- 
ting with  coarse  laughter,  or  else  they  loitered 
about,  as  if  loitering  were  their  business,  like  the 
police.  Gertrude  applied  to  the  first  she  met,  and 
found  that  the  next  train  for  Southampton — a 
fast  one — left  in  one  hour's  time  exactly.  She 
had,  therefore,  leisure  to  loiter  too,  and  she  strolled 
on  down  the  station,  finding  the  next  few  seconds 
interminably  long,  and  wondering  how  she  could 
endure  to  wait.  But  happily  she  had  others  to 
think  of  as  well  as  herself.  There  was  her  sister- 


76  S1NCULA  RL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

in-law  also  in  suspense,  and  doubtless  wondering 
uneasily  what  was  keeping  her  so  long.  There 
would  not  be  time  to  go  and  return,  so  she  must 
send  her  a  note.  She  procured  pen,  ink,  and 
paper  from  the  man  at  the  bookstall,  and  was 
allowed  as  a  favor  to  write  at  his  desk.  He  also 
advised  her  to  send  a  cabman  with  it  who  would 
be  paid  on  delivery,  and  she  went  to  find  one. 
As  she  approached  the  stand  she  saw  a  crowd,  of 
porters  principally,  round  one  of  the  cabs,  the 
driver  of  which  was  standing  up  on  his  box  talk- 
ing at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"  What's  up  now  ?  "  one  greaser  called  to  an- 
other just  behind  her. 

"  It's  old  Moon/'  the  other  answered.  "  He 
ses  he's  bin  deceived  by  a  lady.  Ah !  them 
wimmin  ! " 

"  He's  a  tender-'arted  one,  is  Moon,"  the  first 
man  laughed. 

"  He's  a  full  Moon  now,  or  I'm  much  mistaken," 
the  other  one  rejoined. 

And  indeed  it  was  only  too  true.  Poor  Moon 
had  been  indulging  in  gin  to  beguile  the  weary 
time  of  waiting,  and  also  to  keep  up  his  strength, 
for  he  had  not  had  an  hour's  rest  in  the  last  twenty- 
four,  nor  a  single  regular  meal ;  but  the  treacher- 
ous spirit,  instead  of  comforting  him,  had  only 
sufficed  to  distort  his  view  of  things  in  general, 
and  of  what,  in  his  right  mind,  he  had  considered 
a  great  piece  of  luck,  in  particular — this  "  en- 


SING  ULARLY  DEL  UDED.  ft 

gagement  by  the  day  to  parties  to  whom  money 
was  no  object."  The  evil  spirit  showed  him  to 
himself  as  an  ill-used  man,  and  prompted  him  to 
proclaim  his  woes,  moreover,  with  a  loud  voice 
from  the  box  of  his  own  cab.  Poor  Gertrude  ar- 
rived in  time  for  the  peroration.  She  had  forgot- 
ten the  man's  existence,  and  could  hardly  believe 
her  ears  when  she  heard  him  now,  and  found  her 
own  adventures  of  the  previous  night,  much  mis- 
represented, the  subject  of  his  discourse,  he  him- 
self appearing  in  them  to  the  best  advantage,  his 
own  conduct  being  described,  in  fact,  as  little  less 
than  heroic.  The  crowd  was  delighted.  Cheers, 
"  Hear,  hears  ! "  and  loud  applause  greeted  him 
at  every  pause  ;  and  under  the  influence  of  this 
genial  sympathy,  and  the  exhilarating  effects  of 
gin,  the  good  man  Moon,  ordinarily  so  taciturn, 
so  unimaginative,  waxed  eloquent,  and  glowed 
with  a  poet's  fancy. 

"  "What  do  you  suppose  ud  'a  become  uf  'er," 
he  wanted  to  know,  "  alone  i'  Lunnon  town  at 
night,  deserted  by  that  wagabond,  with  ne'er  a 
place  to  go  to,  ef  it  'adn't  a  bin  for  Moon  ?  She 
ses,  '  Drive  me  'ere,  Moon,'  an'  I  drnv 'er 'ere. 
An'  she  ses,  'Drive  me  there,'  an'  I  druv  'er 
there  ;  an'  wot's  more,  I  druv  'er  back  again  when 
she  told  me,  cos  why,  it  didn't  'urt  me,  an' 
knowed  it  was  a  comfort  to  'er,  for  she  keps  on 
thinkin'  ef  he's  not  'ere  Vll  be  there.  But  I 
know'd  what  the  old  wagabond  meant  when  'e 


78  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

'ailed  me  in  that  there  station  at  two  o'clock  this 
werry  morning,  an'  I  goes  to  'im  an'  I  ses,  '  You're 
the  h  Earl  of  Wartlebury,  ain't  you  ?  '  sez  I,  '  and 
I'm  Moon  the  cabman  ;  but  ef  you  don't  come  at 
once  and  do  wot's  right  and  honorable/  I  ses,  '  by 
that  young  thing/  I  ses,  '  which  'er  bright  smile 
haunts  me  still,'  I  ses,  *  I'll  advertise  you  on  my 
own  cab  all  over  Lunnon  town/  I  ses,  '  you  old 
villan/  I  ses.  And  his  lordship  up  at  that,  an* 
'e  ses,  'Moon,  you're  an  'onest  man/  'e  ses,  'an* 
I'll  take  your  advice/ 'e  ses,  '  an*  'ere's  a  sovereign/ 
'e  ses.  '  Now,  go  your  ways/  'e  ses  ;  '  wot  man 
could  do  fur  'er  you've  done/  'e  ses.  But  <  No  ! 
my  lord/  ses  I.  '  I'll  not  leave  these  premisses,' 
ses  I,  '  till  you  sits  yourself  down  in  that  there  cab 
of  mine/  ses  I ;  '  fur  when  I  goes  to  see  a  wrong 
righted,  I  sees  it  righted,  and  my  name's  Moon/ 
ses  I."  Here  he  was  interrupted  by  vociferous 
cheers,  and  it  was  some  minutes  before  he  could 
make  himself  heard  again.  "  It's  no  use  telling 
me  they're  a  warm  family,"  he  went  on.  "  Do  ye 
suppose  I've  lived  my  life  in  Lunnon  town  an' 
don't  know  that  ?  It's  not  me  pocket,  it's  me 
'art  that's  touched.  She  brought  me  'ere  an'  she 
left  me  without  a  word,  an'  arter  what  I'd  done 
for  'er,  and  all  to  be  deserted — to  be  left  to  die 
like  a  dog  in  a  ditch."  ("  Oh,  you'll  not  die  this 
time!"  and  "Cheer  up,  old  bloke!"  various 
voices  shouted  in  the  crowd.)  "And  she's  all  my 
fancy  painted  her  ;  she's  lovely,  she's  divine  !  " 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDRD.  ft 

the  old  vagabond  was  proceeding,  when,  to 
Gertrude's  horror,  his  wandering  watery  eye 
rested  on  herself  with  an  instant  gleam  of  recog- 
nition. She  had  been  rooted  to  the  spot  by  the 
subject  of  his  discourse,  and  now,  not  knowing 
what  the  consequences  of  the  recognition  would 
be,  she  wished  that  the  ground  might  open  and 
swallow  her.  She  need  not  have  been  alarmed, 
however,  for  the  sight  of  her,  or  perhaps  of  a  po- 
liceman coming  up  behind  her,  had  a  curiously 
sobering  effect  upon  Moon  ;  and  all  he  did  when 
he  saw  her  was  instinctively  to  make  the  sign  of 
his  calling  with  his  whip  while  he  gathered  up 
the  reins  and  sank  on  his  seat,  looking,  because 
his  great  featureless  face  was  too  fat  for  expres- 
sion, as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

The  crowd  hooted  and  jeered,  and  called  to 
him  to  go  on,  bat  he  was  deaf  to  their  entreaties, 
and  presently  they  began  to  disperse.  Then  Ger- 
trude went  up  to  him,  and  after  reading  him  a 
severe  lecture,  to  which  he  listened  in  solemn 
silence,  somewhat  rashly  despatched  him  with  a 
note. 

"  Do  you  think  you're  sensible  enough  to  be 
trusted  with  it  ?  "  she  asked.  "  It's  of  great  im- 
portance. You'll  be  well  paid  when  you  arrive." 
"Trusted!"  he  answered,  scornfully. 
"  Why,  Miss,  I've  druv  this  cab  when  I've  been 
BO  drunk  I  couldn't  hev  stood  on  the  ground  ; 
an*  I'm  not  so  drunk  as  that  now,"  he  added 


So  S1NGULARL  Y  DEL UDE&. 

regretfully.  "  Oh  I  I  niver  went  wrong  in  me 
life." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it's  better  to  trust  to  a  half- 
drunk  man  I  know  something  of,"  she  said,  dubi- 
ously, "  than  to  a  sober  one  of  whom  I  know 
nothing.  Here,  Moon,  take  this  note  to  Miss 
Somers.  And,  Moon,"  she  added,  solemnly, 
"  mark  my  words  :  if  that  note  goes  wrong,  you'll 
have  no  more  luck  as  long  as  you  live." 

"  Now  the  saints  preserve  us  ! "  Moon  ex- 
claimed, crossing  himself  devoutly,  an  act  BO  ut- 
terly inconsistent  with  all  she  knew  of  London 
cabmen  as  to  make  Gertrude  smile. 

But  she  perceived  that  the  last  adjuration  was 
a  lucky  hit,  and  returned  to  the  station  much  re- 
lieved. 

On  arriving  in  Southampton,  she  drove  straight 
to  the  Peninsular  and  Oriental  Steamship  Com- 
pany's office,  and  asked  if  Mr.  Lawrence  Soames 
had  been  there  that  day.  "  Oh,  yes,"  the  clerk 
told  her.  He  had  taken  a  passage  to  Yokohama, 
and  was  bound  for  San  Francisco  ;  but  the  next 
mail  did  not  leave  till  that  day  week,  and  Mr. 
Soames  had  said  he  would  go  and  do  the  Channel 
Islands,  St.  Malo,  St.  Helier,  and  the  country 
round  about  them  while  he  waited. 

'  'Did  he  say  which  boat  he  would  go  by  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  asked  when  the  next  boat  for  Jer- 
sey left,  and  went  off  in  a  hurry  when  I  told 
him." 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  8l 

"  When  does  it  leave  ?  "  Gertrude  asked. 

"At  three  o'clock,"  the  man  replied.     "It's 
•well  on  its  way  by  this  time." 

Her  heart  sank   at  this.     "What  a  misfortune 
the  missing  of  that  train  had  been  1 
6 


82  SINGULAHL  Y  DEL UDED. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"How  did  he  seem  ?"  Gertrude  could  not  help 
asking  before  she  left  the  office. 

"  He  seemed  a  bit  fresh,"  the  clerk  answered 
bluntly. 

Gertrude  winced.  It  was  the  second  time  to- 
day that  she  had  heard  this  insulting  insinuation 
made  against  the  husband  whom  she  had  not  only 
loved  but  reverenced,  and  it  goaded  her  so  that 
she  would  have  liked  to  have  hurried  from  the 
place,  as  if  by  flight  she  could  escape  from  the 
horrid  thought ;  but  she  bravely  checked  the  im- 
pulse, and  waited,  without  any  external  sign  of 
suffering,  until  she  had  decided  or  what  she  had 
better  do  next. 

There  seemed  to  be  three  courses  open  to  her. 
She  could  await  her  husband's  return  at  South- 
ampton ;  or  she  could  follow  him  to  Jersey  ;  or 
she  could  go  straight  to  St.  Malo,  and  meet  him 
when  he  arrived  there. 

Each  of  these  plans  seemed  good  at  the  first 
glance  ;  but  when  she  came  to  consider,  she  found 
an  objection  to  each. 

If  she  waited  at  Southampton,  it  was  just  pos- 
sible that  her  husband  might  become  the  victim 


SING ULARLY  DEL UDED.  83 

of  some  new  delusion,  and  never  return,  in  which 
case  she  would  probably  lose  all  trace  of  him. 

And  if  she  followed  him  to  Jersey,  judging  by 
her  experience  so  far,  she  feared  her  chance  of 
overtaking  him  was  very  small.  And  then  again, 
if  she  went  to  meet  him  at  St.  Malo,  she  would 
run  the  same  risk  as  if  she  waited  at  Southampton  : 
he  might  change  his  mind,  and  not  go  there  at 
all. 

She  was  very  much  puzzled  at  first  by  these 
three  alternatives  ;  but  it  appeared  to  her  at  last, 
that  by  a  little  management  she  might  make  one 
of  them,  at  all  events,  the  least  of  three  evils. 
She  thought  that  if  she  went  to  St.  Malo  herself, 
and  Miss  Sorners  came  to  wait  at  Southampton,  it 
would  scarcely  be  possible  for  Leslie  to  escape 
them  both ;  for  if  he  did  not  remain  in  the  Chan- 
nel Islands,  where  he  would  be  safe  enough,  he 
must  either  go  on  to  St.  Malo  or  return  to  South- 
ampton. Accordingly  she  decided  upon  this  last 
course  ;  and  finding  that  the  mail-steamer  did  not 
leave  for  St.  Malo  until  ten  o'clock  that  night, 
she  proceeded,  without  flurry,  to  make  the  neces- 
sary arrangements.  She  drove  first  to  a  shop  to 
buy  some  toilet  requisites,  for  she  had  nothing 
with  her.  Then  she  went  to  the  steamer  which  was 
alongside  the  dock,  and  chose  her  berth.  There 
was  nothing  going  on  in  the  saloon  at  the  time,  so 
she  sat  down  there,  and  wrote  Miss  Somers  a 
rapid  but  clear  account  of  all  she  had  done  so  far? 


84  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

and  all  she  proposed.  This  Miss  Somers  would 
receive  by  the  first  post  next  morning  ;  but  in 
case  Moon  had  proved  faithless,  Gertrude  thought 
it  right  to  send  her  sister-in-law  a  telegram  at 
once,  to  make  sure  that  she  would  not  be  left  a 
whole  night  in  suspense.  Gertrude  took  these 
missives  to  the  post-office  herself,  and  despatched 
them,  and  then  she  returned  to  the  steamer. 
There  she  found  the  stewards  laying  the  tables 
for  the  six  o'clock  dinner,  and  for  the  first  time 
since  breakfast  she  remembered  that  she  ought  to 
eat.  She  had  little  enough  appetite  in  all  con- 
science, but  she  tried  to  refresh  herself  by  going 
to  the  ladies'  cabin  to  take  off  her  dress,  and  get- 
ting the  stewardess  to  brush  it  and  all  her  things 
thoroughly,  to  get  rid  of  the  feeling  of  dust, 
which  is  one  of  the  most  fatiguing  additions  to 
the  discomfort  of  traveling ;  and  after  taking 
down  and  rearranging  her  hair,  and  having  a  good 
splash  in  cold  water,  she  felt  so  strong  and  com- 
posed that  she  was  surprised  at  herself. 

But  she  could  not  eat,  and  steamer  viands  are 
not  tempting  to  coy  appetites.  She  had  heard, 
however,  of  a  desperate  remedy  in  cases  like  hers, 
where  so  much  depended  on  the  strength  of  one 
frail  person,  and  now  she  did  not  hesitate  to  try 
it.  She  ordered  a  small  bottle  of  champagne,  and 
drank  more  than  half  a  tumbler  of  it  right  off. 
Two  ladies  on  the  other  side  of  the  table  looked  as 
if  they  thought  her  an  abandoned  woman ;  but  in 


SlNGttLAkt  Y  DEL  VDED.  85 

a  very  few  minutes  her  spirits  rose  to  their  nsnal 
level,  she  was  conscions  of  a  delicious  glow  all 
over,  and,  better  still,  she  became  so  hungry,  that 
the  leg  of  a  gigantic  fowl,  with  tepid  ham  and 
cold  potatoes,  not  only  satisfied  but  pleased  her. 
She  began  to  feel  some  interest  too  in  her  fellow- 
passengers,  and,  perceiving  what  the  ladies  oppo- 
site thought  of  her,  was  amused.  She  had  found 
the  true  use  of  wine.  It  was  a  rest  and  a  relief 
to  her  at  the  moment,  and  when  she  went  to  her 
berth  a  little  later,  she  slept  under  its  genial  in- 
fluence, instead  of  lying  awake,  as  she  must  other- 
wise have  done,  tossing  herself  into  a  fever,  and 
wearing  her  already  overwrought  mind  by  foolish 
fears  and  worry  worse  than  useless. 

She  must  have  had  some  hours'  refreshing  sleep 
before  she  awoke  suddenly  with  a  start,  as  unhappy 
people  do.  The  awakening,  however,  was  not  ac* 
compauied  by  an  immediate  recognition  of  her 
strange  surroundings.  Her  first  conscious  thought 
was  wonder  that  her  husband  was  not  near  her  ; 
her  first  voluntary  effort  was  to  turn — not  to  him, 
alas  !  but  to  the  full  recollection  of  her  position, 
which  was  brought  home  to  her  by  what  she  saw. 

She  was  in  an  upper  berth  of  the  ladies'  cabin. 
Several  of  the  other  berths  were  occupied,  and 
two  French  Sisters  of  Charity  sat  together  on  a 
sofa,  their  hands  clasped  before  them,  their  eyes 
fixed  on  the  floor,  their  sweet  and  patient  faces 
composed,  as  if  their  minds  were  absorbed  in  med- 


86  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

itation  or  prayer.  The  cabin  was  lighted  by  a 
lamp  which  hung  from  the  center  of  the  ceiling. 
It  swayed  with  the  motion  of  the  vessel  and 
flickered,  casting  uncertain  shadows,  now  to  one 
side,  now  to  the  other,  but  giving  light  enough 
for  the  stewardess  to  attend  to  the  passengers. 

The  steamer  had  left  the  smooth  Southampton 
Water,  and  was  nearing  the  Needles  by  this  time. 
The  regular  thump  of  the  screw  vibrated  from 
stem  to  stern,  cordage  creaked,  doors  rattled, 
hoarse  voices  shouted,  chains  clanked,  and  every 
now  and  then  there  was  a  rush  of  footsteps  over- 
head, which  sounded  like  an  exaggerated  patter  of 
heavy  raindrops  on  autumn  leaves  in  a  fierce  little 
squall.  The  vessel  was  making  splendid  way, 
with  a  spanking  breeze  in  her  favor,  and  the  night 
was  fine  and  clear  ;  but  as  she  approached  the 
Needles  she  got  into  a  chopping  sea,  and  began  to 
pitch  in  a  lively  way,  that  suffice  in  five  min- 
utes to  make  most  of  the  Britons  believe  that 
it  was  better  to  be  beside  the  sea  boasting,  than 
upon  it  without  the  slightest  inclination  to  rule. 
It  was  probably  the  motion  that  had  awakened 
Gertrude,  and  as  she  turned  and  recollected  where 
she  was,  she  uttered  a  low  moan. 

The  stewardess  went  to  her  immediately. 

"Are  you  sick,  Miss  ?"  she  said. 

"Yes,  stewardess,"  Gertrude  answered;  "but 
it  is  sick  at  heart  I  am." 

The  stewardess  looked  at  her  as  if  she  were 


SING ULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  87 

searching  inwardly  for  some  remedy  for  this  com- 
plaint, but  she  was  called  to  one  of  the  other 
ladies  before  anything  occurred  to  her  ;  and  then 
Gertrude  noticed  that  the  two  gentle  Sisters  of 
Charity,  whose  sofa  was  close  to  her  berth,  were 
looking  pale  and  distressed.  She  raised  herself 
on  her  elbow,  "  Pardon,  mesdames,"  she  said. 
But  they  did  not  perceive  that  she  was  addressing 
them.  "  Excusez-moi,  mes  scaurs,"  she  began 
again.  Then  they  looked  up,  and  smiled  at  her. 
"  I  would  suggest,"  she  said  in  French,  "  that  it 
is  better  to  lie  down." 

"  Madame  est  bien  bonne/'  was  the  soft  re- 
sponse ;  "  but  that  would  be  too  much  of  self-in- 
dulgence :  and  at  any  rate  it  is  not  for  long." 

"  Then,  if  you  breathe  with  the  motion  of  the 
vessel,"  Gertrude  answered,  "you  will  not  be 
sick." 

"  Oh,  show  me  how  you  do  it ! "  one  in  extrem- 
ity demanded. 

It  was  the  cold  propriety  who  had  scorned  Ger- 
trude earlier  in  the  evening,  when  she  saw  her 
drinking  champagne  out  of  a  tumbler ;  but  Ger- 
trude bore  her  no  ill-will,  and  did  her  best  to  help 
her  now.  Then  some  of  the  other  ladies  roused 
themselves  to  try  the  novel  experiment,  and,  while 
making  an  effort  to  help  themselves,  forgot  how 
dreadfully  ill  they  were.  The  stewardess  disap- 
peared at  intervals,  but  always  returned  with  com- 
forting assurances.  "  "We're  at  the  Needles  now.* 


88  SING  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

"We've  passed  the  Needles."  "If  the  wind 
doesn't  drop,  we'll  do  it  in  eleven  hours  instead 
of  twelve. "  "  Many  a  time  I've  been  sixteen  hours 
crossing,  and  sometimes,  twenty-four.  And  often 
and  often  we've  had  to  put  back  three  times  before 
we  could  get  past  the  Needles.  Ah !  we  dp 
have  some  seas  occasionally.  I'm  sick  myself 
sometimes,  and  then  yon  might  complain.  But 
this  is  only  a  fine  passage.  We  haven't  made  such 
a  run  for  months." 

Just  then  there  came  one  of  the  periodic  out- 
bursts of  hoarse  shouting,  followed  by  the  clatter 
of  hurrying  footsteps  overhead.  "  What  are  they 
doing,  stewardess  ?"  Gertrude  asked. 

"  Getting  up  sail  or  changing  her  course,"  the 
stewardess  answered,  with  the  indifference  of  one 
familiar  with  either  incident. 

"  I  should  have  thought  they  would  have  got 
the  sails  up  at  starting  with  such  a  breeze,"  Ger- 
trude observed,  not  without  malice. 

The  noise  above  increased  to  a  racket.  The 
stewardess  disappeared. 

"  Oh,  dear,  I  hope  there  is  nothing  wrong  ! " 
Gertrude's  whilom  enemy  exclaimed,  nervously. 
.     "  The  night  is  clear,"  Gertrude  answered  sen- 
tentiously,  no  thought  of  a  catastrophe  entering 
her  head. 

"Prions,  ma  scaur,"  one  of  the  French  sisters 
whispered. 
"  Pour  eux,"  the  other  softly  suggested.     "  Caj 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  89 

pour  nous  le  danger  serait  peut-e'tre  le  martyre, 
et  alors  nous  irions  droites  au  ciel.  Bieu  soit 
loue  ! " 

The  face  of  the  other  beamed  at  the  hope  of 
martyrdom,  and  both  relapsed  into  silent  prayer 
for  their  sinful  fellow-passengers. 

After  an  unusually  long  absence,  the  stewardess 
returned.  In  a  casual  way  Gertrude  looked  at 
her,  but  something  in  the  woman's  face  riveted 
her  attention.  It  was  neither  fear  nor  flurry,  but 
the  look  of  one  with  a  hard  task  before  her,  anx- 
ious to  act,  but  hardly  knowing  how  to  begin. 
The  noise  on  deck  redoubled.  She  glanced  round 
desperately  at  the  different  ladies,  then  meeting 
Gertrude's  inquiring  glance,  she  recognized  what 
she  required — coolness  and  courage  to  match  her 
own.  With  one  step  she  was  beside  the  berth. 
"We  must  get  them  up  on  deck  at  once,"  she 
whispered,  and  the  next  moment  Gertrude  was 
standing  beside  her.  She  made  no  noise,  she 
asked  no  question,  and  only  the  French  sisters 
noticed  the  sudden  movement,  and  rising  also, 
stood  unsteadily,  as  if  awaiting  orders.  Once 
on  her  feet  Gertrude  felt  giddy  herself  with  the 
motion  of  the  vessel,  but  the  physical  discomfort 
in  no  way  hindered  her.  Repeating  what  the 
stewarduess  had  said  in  French,  she  went  herself 
to  the  nearest  berth,  and  taking  its  occupant  by 
the  hand,  she  said  authoritatively  :  "  You  must 
get  up  at  once,  We  have  all  to  go  on  deck.  Let 


90  SINGVLARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

me  help  you."  It  was  a  girl  or  sixteen  or  seven- 
teen to  whom  she  spoke,  and  the  young  creature, 
although  dreadfully  sick,  bravely  responded.  Like 
Gertrude,  she  had  not  undressed,  and  although 
she  could  hardly  stand  when  she  got  out  of  her 
berth,  she  asked  at  once :  "  Can  I  do  any- 
thing ?  "  "  Help  me  to  lift  this  lady/'  Gertrude 
rejoined,  as  she  unceremoniously  pulled  up  the 
limp  remains  of  her  late  enemy  into  a  sitting 
position.  The  poor  lady  looked  like  a  badly 
stuffed  sack,  and  begged  to  be  let  alone  or  merci- 
fully thrown  overboard. 

"  That  sort  of  nonsense  is  all  well  enough," 
the  stewardess  said,  roughly,  "  when  there's  noth- 
ing else  in  the  wind  ;  but  when  you  stand  a  good 
chance  to  get  your  request,  or  at  all  events  to  be 
roasted  like  a  rat  in  a  trap " 

With  a  piercing  shriek  another  lady  sprang 
from  her  berth.  ' '  What  do  you  say  ?  "  she  cried, 
frantically.  "  Stewardess  !  stewardess  !  come  to 
me  directly !  Are  we  in  danger  ?  You  must 
help  me." 

*•'  'Deed,  then,  you  seem  well  able  to  help  your- 
self, judging  by  the  noise,"  was  the  cool  rejoin- 
der. The  grim  insolence  of  this  courageous 
woman  at  the  moment  was  undoubtedly  a  happy 
inspiration,  which  did  much  to  prevent  a  helpless 
state  of  panic  in  the  ladies'  cabin.  She  was  ably 
assisted  by  Gertrude,  the  two  Sisters  of  Charity, 
find  Mary  Burt,  the  young  English  girl.  But 


SIXG ULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  9! 

still,  with  all  the  authority  of  self-possession  and 
courage  to  help  them,  they  found  it  hard  enough 
to  get  the  other  ladies  up,  owing  to  the  abject 
terror  which  paralyzed  some,  and  the  aimless  rush- 
ing hither  and  thither  of  others,  whom  fear  had 
made  too  frantic  either  to  order  or  obey. 

"  Have  we  got  in,  my  dear  ?  or  is  something 
the  matter  ? "  an  elderly  lady  with  a  sweet  anx- 
ious face  asked  Gertrude,  speaking  quietly,  how- 
ever, when  the  latter  came  to  her  berth  to  beg 
her  to  get  up. 

"Something  is  the  matter,"  Gertrude  an- 
swered, without  haste  or  flurry.  "Let  me  help 
you  to  get  some  things  on.  The  ship  is  on  fire." 


ga  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  old  lady  sat  up  immediately.  She  was 
in  an  upper  berth,  and  had  gone  regularly  to 
bed. 

"  I  am  rather  stiff/'  she  said  to  Gertrude. 
''  Could  you  kindly  help  me  to  get  down  ?  " 

Then  Mary  Burt  came,  and  the  two  together 
dressed  her  completely  in  a  few  seconds.  Just  as 
they  had  finished,  the  cabin  door  was  burst  open 
impetuously,  and  a  sandy-haired  young  man, 
much  freckled,  with  a  wide  mouth,  flat  nose,  and 
laughing  blue  eyes,  dressed  in  •  shirt  and  trousers 
only,  barefooted,  and  with  his  braces  hanging 
down  behind,  rushed  in.  He  had  a  life-belt  on 
his  shoulder. 

"  Oh,  mama,  there  yon  are  !  "  he  said,  cheer- 
fully, to  the  sweet  little  elderly  lady.  "You 
really  do  look  nice,  but  you  just  want  this  to 
complete  your  costoom,"  and  he  carefully  put  the 
life-belt  round  her.  "Now,  old  lady,  just  take 
my  arm  and  let  me  escort  you." 

"  But  these  two  young  ladies  ?"  she  said,  smil- 
ing up  at  him,  but  hanging  back. 

"  Duty  first,"  he  said,  puffing  himself  out 
with  a  fine  affectation  of  importance,  and  hurrying 


SINGULARL  V  DEL  U£)ED.  93 

her  out  as  he  spoke.     "  I'll  just  see  you  safe  on 
deck,  and  then  I'll  look  after  the  girls." 

Now  that  the  door  was  open,  those  below  could 
hear  what  was  said  by  the  hoarse  voices  shouting 
incessantly  to  each  other  above,  and  just  at  this 
moment  they  heard  the  order  bawled  :  "  Bring  up 
the  women  !  There's  not  a  moment  to  be  lost ! " 
and  as  if  to  emphasize  it,  the  atmosphere  of  the 
ladies'  cabin  began  to  grow  thick  with  smoke. 
Several  of  the  ladies  shrieked  hysterically,  which 
made  the  stewardess  more  irascible  than  ever. 
She  said  it  was  just  the  kind  of  thing  she  could 
not  stand,  and  beginning  with  the  nearest,  she 
was  apparently  going  all  round  to  shake  them 
one  by  one  into  their  senses  methodically.  But 
several  gentlemen  now  came  to  the  rescue,  and  in 
a  few  seconds,  by  dint  of  pulling,  hauling,  driv- 
ing, and  coaxing, the  more  helpless  were  safely  hud- 
dled up  on  deck,  the  others  following  as  they  were 
able.  Gertrude  was  the  last  to  leave  the  cabin, 
having  been  obliged  to  return  for  a  lovely  little 
child  who  was  lame.  His  mother  had  gone  her- 
self— and  forgotten  him  !  The  scene  on  deck  for 
those  who  had  courage  and  leisure  lo  observe  it 
was  at  once  grand  and  appalling.  The  fire  was 
in  the  fore-part  of  the  ship.  The  engines  had 
stopped,  and  the  vessel  had  headed  up  to  the  wind, 
which  now  blew  the  smoke  and  flame  aft  in  scorch- 
ing, suffocating  volumes.  The  pumps  were  still 
going  frantically,  and  besides  these  a  chain  of  men, 


94  SING ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  } 

mostly  passengers,  in  motley  garb — night-shirts, 
day-shirts,  many-hued  flannel  or  cotton  shirts,  no 
ghirts  at  all,  but  drawers  or  trousers,  often  and 
evidently  not  belonging  to  the  wearer,  judging 
by  the  fit — and  all  more  or  less  scorched  and  be- 
grimed, passed  buckets  full  of  water  to  the  fire, 
and  back  again  empty  to  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
where  two  men  with  ropes  and  hooks  at  the  end 
of  them,  with  almost  rhythmical  regularity,  con- 
tinually filled  them  afresh  in  the  sea.  There  was 
silence  save  for  the  shouting  of  directions,  which 
was  repeated  from  one  to  the  other,  and  such 
perfect  order  prevailed  that  had  it  not  been  for 
the  sight  of  fire,  which  is  always  terrific,  no  cause 
for  alarm  would  have  been  apparent.  The  cap- 
tain was  as  cool  as  when  he  left  port  that  night, 
and  his  officers  supported  him  manfully,  while 
the  conduct  of  the  crew  and  most  of  the  passengers 
left  nothing  to  be  desired.  Some,  in  fact,  of  the 
latter  behaved  heroically.  But  all  their  efforts 
only  sufficed  to  check  the  fire  for  a  time,  never  for 
a  moment  were  they  able  to  control  it.  There  were 
a  hundred  and  fifty  passengers  on  board,  over 
sixty  of  whom  were  women  ;  and  there  were  about 
fifteen  children,  nearly  all  babies  in  arms.  The 
greater  number  of  women  and  children  were 
second-class  passengers  ;  but  all  were  huddled  to- 
gether now  in  the  after-part  of  the  ship,  the  work- 
ing-women generally  setting  an  example  of  patient 
fortitude  which  might  have  made  many  of  their 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  95 

so-called  betters  blush.  As  usual,  however,  in 
times  of  great  excitement,  the  best  as  well  as  the 
worst  traits  of  character  were  freely  exhibited. 
Many  a  brave  kind  word  was  spoken,  many  a  gen- 
erous act  performed  in  those  few  awful  minutes, 
and  much  of  the  finest,  most  self-sacrificing  devo- 
tion was  displayed,  side  by  side  with  craven  terror 
and  despair  of  the  selfish,  abject  kind  which  is  des- 
picable. 

"  They  want  more  hands  there  to  help  with  the 
buckets,"  a  brawny  working-woman  remarked. 
"  If  some  one  would  hold  my  baby " 

"  Give  him  to  me  !  "  exclaimed  a  young  gentle- 
woman, stepping  forward,  a  delicate-looking  crea- 
ture, only  half-dressed.  "  I  can't  lift  a  bucket, 
I'm  ashamed  to  say,  but  I  can  mind  a  baby." 

"Well  done  for  you,  Miss!"  another  woman 
exclaimed  fervently.  "  I've  got  a  broken  arm, 
more's  the  pity,  or  I'd  go  myself.  But  my  man's 
there.  That's  him,  that  big  fine  chap  close  up  to 
the  fire,"  she  added,  with  pardonable  pride. 

Just  then  a  lady  broke  from  the  group,  and 
rushing  up  to  the  captain,  seized  his  arm  :  "  I'll 
give  you  twenty  thousand  pounds  if  you'll  put  m« 
into  a  boat,"  she  cried. 

"  We'll  find  a  seat  for  you  in  one  of  them,  if 
there's  room,  by  and  by,"  the  captain  said.  "'  But 
all  the  money  in  the  Bank  of  England  wouldn't 
buy  you  a  boat  just  now,  madam,"  and  he  put  her 
aside  with  more  force  than  feeling. 


96  SINGULARLY  DELt7DE&. 

The  men  raised  a  derisive  cheer.  The  wretched 
creature  sank  on  the  deck  paralyzed  with  terror, 
and  the  two  French  sisters,  themselves  as  calm 
and  unruffled  as  when  they  sat  in  the  cabin,  went 
forward  and  charitably  lifted  her  out  of  the  way. 

"  Steady,  my  men  !  Quick  there  with  the 
water  ! "  the  captain  shouted. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir  !  "  was  the  cheerful  response. 

"  Hold  on  there  !  you're  too  near,"  a  warning 
voice  exclaimed. 

"  Ah,  he's  down,  poor  fellow  ! " 

"  Drag  him  out  of  that,  he'll  be  burnt." 

"  He  is  burnt. 

"No,  only  scorched  and  suffocated.  Lend  a 
hand  to  drag  him  abaft  the  capstan." 

"  It's  my  man  !  Ah  knowed  he'd  do  his  best ! " 
the  woman  with  the  broken  arm  declared,  trium- 
phantly. 

"  Eh,  ma'am,  he  has  indeed,"  another  woman 
commented.  "  Ef  he  never  does  a  hand's  turn 
again,  you'll  have  your  comfort." 

The  women  had  brought  the  poor  fellow  aft  by 
this  time. 

"  He's  only  fainted,"  Mrs.  Eedmond  said. 
She  was  the  gentle  little  elderly  lady  whom  Ger- 
trude had  helped  to  dress.  "  He'll  recover  pres- 
ently." 

"  Or  know  no  more  about  it,"  her  son  observed, 
in  the  cheerfullest  way.  . 

Gertrude  was  standing  beside  him  ;  and  just  at 


£ftfG ULARLY  DEL tfDED.  ft 

the  moment,  her  lately  seasick  enemy,  quite  mad 
with  terror  now,  apparently,  her  eyes  flaring,  her 
gray  hair  streaming,  sprang  up  among  them, 
shrieking  "Fire  !  fire!  "  and  before  any  one  could 
prevent  her,  or  even  guess  her  intention,  sprang  to 
the  gap  in  the  bulwark,  where  the  men  stood  draw- 
ing up  water,  and  plunged  headlong  into  the  sea. 

"  That's  the  first,"  Arthur  Redmond  remarked 
to  Gertrude,  in  his  curiously  cheerful  way. 

"  Oh,  can't  she  be  saved  ?  "  the  latter  cried 
horror-stricken,  as  she  vainly  peered  over  the 
vessel's  side  into  the  darkness. 

"  Impossible  1 "  was  the  answer.  "  There's 
too  many  of  you  for  that.  You  cheapen  your- 
selves by  being  so  plentiful.  Here,  madam,"  he 
said  to  a  lady,  who  was  beginning  to  show  symp- 
toms of  hysterics.  "  Here's  yesterday's  paper, 
and  there's  plenty  of  light.  Just  make  yourself 
agreeable  by  reading  it  aloud  to  us.  It  will  help 
to  beguile  the  time."  Then,  turning  to  Gertrude, 
he  observed,  admiringly,  "  You  don't  seem  to  be 
in  much  of  a  way  about  yourself.  You're  a  rifht 
one,  you  are  !  " 

"  I  can't  return  the  compliment,"  she  retorted 
severely.  "  I  think  you  ought  to  be  helping,  a 
great  fellow  liko  you.  Why,  I  believe  your  en  joy- 
ing it." 

"  So  I  am,"  he  said,  "  so  I  am  ;  and  I'm  not 
idle  either,"  he  proceeded,  in  a  leisurely  way. 
"  Look  at  our  hysterical  friend  with  the  news- 


9&  StNGULA  RL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

paper.  She  isn't  reading  it,  but  she's  as  good  aa 
gold  now.  I'll  put  you  in  the  Times  to-morrow," 
he  told  her,  encouragingly,  "  '  Disastrous  fire  on 
board  a  passenger  steamer  I  Heroic  conduct  of  a 
lady  \>» 

The  other  women  laughed  at  this,  and  the 
young  fellow  strayed  off  again  in  an  apparently 
purposeless  manner  ;  but  Gertrude  noticed  that 
he  lent  a  hand  here  and  there  by  the  way,  and 
whenever  he  spoke  the  flagging  spirits  of  the  men 
revived,  and  wherever  he  went  he  left  some  sign 
of  his  genial  influence. 

"  He's  always  like  that,"  his  mother  said  fondly 
— "  always  doing  something  for  somebody ;  and, 
my  dear,  the  best  and  kindest  son  alive." 

*•  A  wise  son  maketh  a  glad  mother,"  an  elderly 
working- woman  responded  ;  and  the  familiar  copy- 
book phrase  sounded  strangely  pathetic,  as  did 
also  the  many  touching  little  confidences  they  made 
to  each  other  from  time  to  time.  Gertrude  spoke 
of  her  own  baby  boy,  and  of  the  dreadful  mys- 
tery of  her  husband's  disappearance,  and  those 
about  her  listened,  commented,  suggested,  forget- 
ting their  own  position  for  the  moment  in  the 
curious  interest  of  the  story.  The  two  French 
sisters  knelt  on  the  deck  and  prayed,  with  serenely 
beautiful  upturned  faces,  and  by  degrees  many  of 
the  other  women  joined  them,  and  grew  calm. 

And  ever  the  terrible  fire  raged  higher  and 
hotter.  Gertrude  could  not  pray  ;  but  her 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  99 

courage  never  forsook  her,  and  she  noticed  every- 
thing— the  darkness  of  the  night  beyond  the  blaze, 
the  upheaval  of  the  vessel  on  the  waves,  the  sway- 
ing and  balancing  of  the  men  as  they  stood,  with 
legs  apart,  and  feet  firm  planted  on  the  deck,  keep- 
ing their  places  with  difficulty,  as  the  vessel  rolled 
in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  or  rose  to  a  wave  and 
pitched,  but  working  always.  And  the  silence,  too, 
she  noticed,  and  then  the  constant  breaking  of 
the  same  by  an  order,  a  pious  ejaculation,  or  an 
oath.  Seeing  every  detail  of  the  scene  as  she  did 
in  her  quiet  clear-headed  way,  made  it  appear  as  if 
she  had  been  watching  it  for  hours  ;  but,  in  truth, 
little  more  than  half  of  one  sufficed  to  show  that 
the  fire  would  conquer  its  foes.  The  handful  of 
brave  and  resoiute  men  were  beaten  back  step  by 
step,  fighting  for  every  inch  of  solid  plank,  and 
fighting  to  the  last,  even  after  the  most  sanguine 
had  ceased  to  hope.  But  the  struggle  was  worse 
than  useless — a  mere  waste  of  most  precious  time, 
as  it  seemed  at  last,  and  now  the  order  came  : 
twenty  men,  picked  out  by  name,  and  the  two 
chief  officers,  to  lower  away  the  boats  and  see  the 
women  safe  on  board  them,  the  rest  to  stick  to 
their  posts  and  fight  with  the  fire  to  the  last. 
The  ranks  were  considerably  thinned  by  the 
twenty-two  men  told  off  for  duty  with  the  boats 
stepping  out  from  them  ;  but  the  others  showed 
no  sign  of  wavering,  beyond  the  inevitable  re- 
treat before  the  flames,  which  raged  more  and 


I  oo  SING  ULA  RL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

more  fiercely  every  minute.  "  Well  done,  my 
men  !  "  the  captain  cried.  "  All  the  world  will 
be  speaking  of  your  pluck  by  this  time  to-morrow. 
And  there's  a  chance  for  us  all  yet.  We're 
making  light  enough  to  be  seen  ten  miles  off  ! 
There'll  be  something  come  to  the  rescue  pres- 
ently. But  off  with  the  women  !  " 

The  boats  were  lowered  by  this  time — only 
three,  alas  !  and  one  of  these  a  mere  dingey.  The 
sea  was  rough  enough  to  make  even  the  burning 
ship  seem  safer  than  those  little  tossing  atoms  of 
wood  beside  it,  and  the  women  held  back.  The 
companion-ladder  had  been  let  down,  but  it  was 
difficult  to  keep  a  boat  alongside  it,  and  a  horrible 
gulf  of  shining  black  water  continually  yawned 
between.  In  the  little  pause  that  ensued,  Ger- 
trude looked  round  for  young  Redmond.  He  was 
at  the  other  side  of  the  deck,  trying  to  cut  a  life- 
belt loose  that  was  fastened  by  wire  to  the  bul- 
wark, as  if,  when  it  was  made  fast,  the  end  and 
object  of  its  existence  was  accomplished  ;  and  as  he 
pulled  and  tugged  at  it  he  cheered  himself  in  an 
absent  way  by  whistling  a  plaintive  tune.  When 
at  last  he  had  succeeded  in  disengaging  it,  Ger- 
trude was  a  little  curious  to  know  what  he  would 
do  with  it — wear  it  himself,  she  supposed  ;  but 
somewhat  to  her  surprise,  he  brought  it  to  her  in 
his  leisurely  way,  remarking,  "  Mama  looks  quite 
nice  in  hers,  doesn't  she  ? "  and  he  nodded  his 
head  over  his  shoulder  toward  the  little  gentle- 


StNGULARL  y  DEL  UDED.  i&i 

woman  who  stood  clinging  to  the  bulwark  to  steady 
herself.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  but  she  was  quite 
calm,  and  a  little  smile  of  motherly  pride  and 
affection  hovered  about  her  lips  as  she  watched 
her  son,  from  whom  she  never  moved  her  eyes. 
"  Chirrupy  old  girl,  ain't  she  ?  "  that  youth  went 
on.  "Now  you  may  guess  which  side  of  the 
family  I  take  after.  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  fix 
her  up  first  with  a  life-belt.  Duty  first,  pleasure 
afterward.  Eh  ?  This  is  for  you,"  and  he 
fastened  the  belt  round  Gertrude  carefully.  But 
now  the  moment  had  come  fora  move  to  he  made, 
and  the  women  still  hung  back  from  the  boats. 
.Gertrude  handed  Mrs.  Redmond  the  little  lame 
child.  "Go  first/'  she  said,  "to  encourage 
them." 

"  She's  right,  mama,"  her  son  exclaimed. 
"Somebody  must  go  first." 

"  But  you,  my  son  ?  " 

"  0  mother  I  you  would  not  take  me  away  when 
I'm  so  useful  ?  " 

A  painful  spasm  contracted  her  placid  face  for 
a  moment  ;  but  in  that  moment  she  had  made  the 
sacrifice,  and  like  a  true  gentlewoman  she  made 
it  cheerfully.  "  God  be  with  you  and  bless  you,  my 
only  child,"  she  said,  reaching  up  to  kiss  him. 

The  laughing  blue  eyes  grew  deep  and  tender 
for  an  instant.  ''Into  His  hands  I  commend  my 
spirit,"  the  young  man  answered  with  a  reverent 
gesture,  and  so  they  parted. 


102  STNG ULARLY  DEL UDED. 

All  the  men  who  were  not  engaged  in  getting 
the  women  into  the  boats  were  still  hard  at  work 
battling  with  the  fire — not  that  there  was  any  hope 
of  subduing  it,  or  even  of  checking  it  perceptibly 
now  ;  but  the  captain  saw  the  wisdom  of  keeping 
them  to  it  till  the  last,  in  order  to  divert  their 
attention  from  their  own  position.  The  men  were 
hidden  entirely  from  the  women,  who  were 
now  all  huddled  about  the  gangway,  by  dense  vol- 
umes of  smoke,  which  would  lift  at  intervals  and 
clear,  allowing  them  to  appear  again,  looking  like 
demons,  with  the  red  glare  of  the  fire  behind  them. 
The  captain  had  stood  on  the  bridge  so  far,  direct- 
ing them,  but  now  the  blinding  scorching  smoke 
drove  him  from  thence  ;  and  his  presence  would 
have  been  required  on  the  deck  at  any  rate,  for 
ominous  looks  were  being  cast  at  the  boats,  and 
the  natural  instinct  of  self-preservation  was  evi- 
dently threatening  to  get  the  better  of  the  disci- 
pline which  had  hitherto  been  so  admirably  main- 
tained. Oaths  were  being  freely  bandied  about, 
shouts  and  howls  would  be  heard  above  the  fire  at 
times,  making  it  seem  as  if  all  pandemonium  were 
let  loose  on  deck  ;  but  insubordination  was  mot  at 
once  by  the  rough-and-ready  condign  punishment 
of  a  knock-down  blow,  and  the  captain  had  leveled 
his  revolver  at  a  fellow  who  had  made  a  move  for 
the  gangway.  But  every  moment  it  became  ap* 
parent  that  a  fight  for  the  boats  was  imminent, 
and  now  the  word  was  quietly  passed  from  on? 


SING ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  103 

to  the  other  :  "  Gentlemen,  close  up  round  the 
gangway  ;"  and  it  was  understood  at  once  that  the 
object  was  to  defend  it.  There  was  a  confused 
movement  among  the  men.  All  were  in  rags 
alike,  with  the  exception  of  the  ship's  officers,  who 
had  not  turned  in  at  all,  and  some  few  passengers 
who  had  not  undressed,  and  these  were  begrimed 
with  smoke  and  drenched  with  water  till  they 
looked  as  bad  as  the  mob  of  tatterdemalions  by 
whom  they  were  surrounded.  No  eye  could  have 
told  a  gentleman  from  a  navvy  when  the  order 
was  given  ;  but  during  the  few  seconds  of  confusion 
which  followed,  a  separation  of  classes  as  distinct 
as  first  and  third  took  place,  and  the  gentlemen 
in  tatters,  with  some  few  who  would  not  have  been 
recognized  as  gentlemen  elsewhere,  but  who  now 
proved  their  right  to  the  appellation  by  being 
there,  had  formed  a  semicircle,  within  which  was 
the  group  of  frightened  women,  round  the  gang- 
way, and  turned  a  bold  front  to  the  men  who  had 
worked  with  them  shoulder  to  shoulder  so  gal- 
lantly, suffering  the  torture  of  scorching  fire,  and 
scalding  steam,  and  blinding,  suffocating  smoke, 
and  the  risk  of  a  horrid  death  for  more  than  an 
honr,  but  were  now,  such  is  the  uncertainty  of 
poor  weak  human  nature,  suddenly  transformed 
into  ferocious  savages,  expressing  with  threatening 
gestures  their  determination  to  save  themselves, 
no  matter  who  might  perish.  And  so  far  as  many 
of  them  were  concerned,  a  very  few  minutes  de- 


1 04  SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED. 

cided  it.  But  all  that  Gertrude  knew  of  it  was, 
that  on  a  sudden  there  arose  a  great  uproar,  un- 
like anything  that  had  preceded  it,  then  men 
hurled  each  other  to  the  deck,  falling  with  great 
thuds,  and  lying  there  while  others  trampled  over 
them,  and  pressed  each  other  backward  into  the 
fire  also,  and  swarmed  up  the  rigging,  and  dropped 
from  thence  again,  falling  into  the  black  and  shin- 
ing water  like  wingless  insects,  seen  for  a  mo- 
ment by  the  light,  of  the  burning  ship,  and  then 
gone  beyond  its  radius,  gone  to  eternity  many  of 
them,  sacrificed,  with  help  at  hand,  to  the  blind 
fury  of  that  senseless  panic.  A  shot  or  two  was 
fired,  the  order  was  given  for  the  boats  to  shove 
off,  and  then  all  at  once  there  seemed  to  be  a  great 
silence,  accentuated,  as  it  were,  by  the  roar  of 
the  fire  and  the  crackle  of  the  spars  as  it  devoured 
them. 

"  You'd  better  step  into  the  water  now,"  young 
Redmond  suggested  to  Gertrude  politely,  at  the 
same  time  handing  her  to  the  gangway.  But  she 
hung  back  with  unconquerable  aversion.  The 
dark  water  appalled  her.  "  Oh,  I  see,"  he  went 
on.  "  You  don't  like  to  leave  the  ship  until  they 
collect  the  tickets — like  to  do  everything  in  order, 
eh  ?  Well,  there's  the  captain,  trying  to  deprive 
that  Sister  of  Charity  of  her  martyrdom,  do 
and  take  leave  of  him,  and  thank  him  for  a 
pleasant  passage.  By  Jove  ! "  in  an  another  tone 
— "if  you  don't  leave  the  ship,  she'll  leave  you," 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  105 

The  vessel  had  given  an  unaccountable  lurch. 
Gertrude  looked  round  iu  a  frightened  way.  The 
two  Sisters  of  Charity  were  still  kneeling  on  the 
deck,  side  by  side,  in  rapt  devotion.  Every  per- 
suasion had  failed  to  move  them.  They  had 
determined  to  be  martyrs,  and  were  enjoying  the 
position  thoroughly  in  their  own  way.  The  cap- 
tain left  them  now  and  came  to  Gertrude.  She 
had  refused  to  take  her  place  in  the  boats  while 
she  had  a  chance,  making  way  for  more  terrified 
women,  and  staying  till  the  last  to  encourage  the 
timid ;  and  now  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
take  to  the  water  or  go  down  with  the  ship. 

"  Come ! "  the  captain  and  young  Redmond 
both  exclaimed  in  a  breath,  each  taking  a  hand. 
They  stood  in  the  breach  between  the  bulwarks 
fora  moment.  "A  long  jump  now,"  said  the 
captain,  "and  we're  clear  of  the  ship.  One,  two, 
three  " — and  at  the  word  they  jumped,  still  hold- 
ing each  other's  hands.  The  captain  let  go  as 
they  touched  the  water,  which  splashed  cold 
round  Gertrude,  with  a  painful  shock  that  made 
her  gasp ;  but  she  clung  convulsively  to  young 
Eedmond,  and  did  not  go  under  because  of  the 
life-belt.  They  must  have  dropped  into  a  strong 
current,  for  they  were  immediately  swept  astern 
of  the  blazing  ship,  which  loomed  for  an  instant 
above  them,  and  then  fell  back,  as  it  were,  into 
the  night,  which  it  lit  like  a  beacon. 

"  You  are  pulling  me  under  I "  Gertrude  ex- 


^jo6  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

claimed.  Young  Redmond  had  been  clutching 
her  by  the  arm. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  gasped  politely,  at  the 
same  time  loosening  his  hold. 

Gertrude  could  see  his  face  at  the  moment. 
The  laughing  blue  eyes,  the  bright  frank  smile, 
the  careless  air,  every  characteristic  of  the  brave 
and  happy  boy,  appeared  to  her  in  that  instant, 
ennobled,  however,  by  something  beyond  all  that 
— and  then  he  was  a  yard  away — and  then  she  saw 
that  he  was  sinking  and  could  not  swim.  With  a 
cry  she  made  a  violent  effort  to  reach  him,  but  the 
life-belt  kept  her  floating  on  top  of  the  water  like 
a  cork,  and,  struggle  as  she  would,  she  made  no 
way.  She  was  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and 
waves  like  any  cork  ;  the  water  filled  her  ears  and 
eyes  and  nose  and  mouth.  Deaf,  dumb,  and  blind, 
she  was  conscious  of  turning  over  and  over,  and 
then  in  an  agony  of  terror  she  seemed  to  shoot 
down  into  a  black  interminable  gulf,  out  of  sight, 
out  of  mind,  a  horrid,  helpless,  suffocating  rush, 
at  the  end  of  which  she  ceased  to  be. 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  107 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ROCK,  rock,  rock,  rock — from  side  to  side, 
slowly  and  with  every  now  and  then  a  just  per- 
ceptible pause,  as  if  the  monotonous  movement 
caused  fatigue ;  and  the  impulse  was  to  rest  had 
rest  been  permitted,  which  was  apparently  not 
the  case,  for  the  rocking  never  ceased — rock, 
rock,  rock,  rock,  with  a  sort  of  running  accom- 
paniment and  gurgle  and  splash  of  water  in  re- 
sponse to  the  swaying,  and  the  sound  of  voices, 
either  muffled  by  distance  or  subdued  so  as  not  to 
be  heard — this  is  what  Gertrude's  mind  awoke  to. 

She  was  lying  on  her  back.  Her  head  rolled 
holplessly  from  side  to  side,  and  she  felt  the  dis- 
comfort, but  she  did  not  at  first  think  of  prevent- 
ing it  by  a  voluntary  effort.  In  the  end,  how- 
ever, it  served  to  arouse  her.  Instinctively  she 
tried  to  steady  herself,  and  at-  the  same  time 
she  found  strength  to  open  her  eyes  and  look 
op.  Above  her  shone  a  world  of  stars  set  in  the 
indigo  darkness  of  a  clear  night  sky.  "Where  was 
she  ?  "What  had  happened  ?  Ah  !  it  was  pain- 
ful the  rush  of  recollection.  Her  husband — the 
ship — the  fire — drowning  !  But  she  was  not 
drowned.  She  was  wet  and  cold  and  weak  and 


1 08  SINGULAR*,  y 

miserable,  but  she  was  alive ;  and  this  was  a 
fishing-smack,  and  that  was  its  big  brown  sail, 
and  those  men  in  blue  jerseys  over  there  round 
the  stove  were  sailors,  and  the  one  face  among 
them  which  struck  her  as  familiar  she  presently 
recognized  as  that  of  the  captain  of  the  steamer. 
They  had  been  saved,  then,  and  were  going  on 
somewhere.  Where  ?  There  are  so  many  places 
one  can  go  to  in  a  ship.  She  tried  to  think.  She 
was  quite  conscious  of  making  the  effort.  And 
then,  all  at  once,  she  found  herself  lying  beside 
the  fire  leaning  against  somebody  who  was  forc- 
ing her  to  drink  something  hot,  while  the  sailors 
in  blue  jerseys,  with  great  boots,  and  canvas 
trousers  tar-besprent,  and  long  sou'- westers  painted 
yellow,  lounged  or  sat  around  and  contemplated 
her,  with  a  large  silent  interest  that  was  impres- 
sive. 

"  We'll  get  her  in"  in  twenty  minutes,"  one  of 
them  remarked.  He  alluded  to  the  boat,  but 
Gertrude  thought  he  meant  herself,  and  tried  to 
thank  him. 

Then  came  another  interval  of  silence,  which 
was  broken  by  trampling  feet,  clanking  blocks, 
hoarse  shouts,  and  a  wild  confusion  of  tongues  in 
the  midst  of  which  Gertrude  felt  herself  lifted  up 
carefully  and  carried  off — she  knew  not  whither, 
nor  did  she  trouble  to  inquire. 

Had  she  kept  her  consciousness  a  few  minutes 
longer  when  she  was  in  the  water,  she  would  have 


SING  ULA  RL  y  DEL  UDED.  1 09 

seen  the  night  become  alive  with  twinkling  lights. 
A  ship  on  fire  conld  not  fail  to  attract  attention 
in  those  busy  waters.  It  had  been  seen  at  St. 
Malo,  and  also  at  the  Channel  Islands,  and  boats 
were  heading  toward  it  from  every  direction  to 
render  assistance,  and  were  close  at  hand  at  the 
very  time  that  the  panic  broke  out  among  the 
men  and  so  many  lives  were  lost.  They  might 
have  expected  help,  considering  their  where* 
abouts  ;  but  they  could  not  have  seen  it  approach- 
ing, for  the  blaze  of  the  fire  was  so  fierce  that 
those  on  board  the  steamer  could  see  nothing  be- 
yond it.  As  it  was,  however,  many  were  saved, 
among  whom  were  the  two  French  Sisters  of 
Charity  in  spite  of  themselves,  an  intrepid  sailor 
of  gigantic  stature  having  ventured  on  to  the 
burning  deck,  picked  them  up,  and  carried  them 
off,  one  under  each  arm,  in  a  scorched  condition, 
without  ceremony.  It  was  a  serious  disappoint- 
ment to  them,  which  saddened  them  for  the  rest 
of  their  natural  lives.  When  either  of  them  told 
the  story,  she  would  shake  her  head  at  the  end  of 
it,  and  add  sorrowfully,  "  Je  n'etais  pas  digne  1 " 
She  was  not  worthy  to  be  made  a  martyr. 

Young  Kedmond  was  not  among  those  who 
were  saved.  The  captain,  himself  a  strong  swim- 
mer, had  been  attracted  by  Gertrude's  cries,  and 
come  to  the  rescue  ;  but  the  lad  sank  before  he 
reached  him,  and  had  never  risen  again.  There 
was  therefore  one  martyr  made  that  night — not 


1 1  o  SING  ULARLY  DEL  UDED. 

the  boy  himself,  but  the  mother,  who  was  left  to 
linger  on  a  lonely  life  for  years  and  mourn  him. 

It  was  back  to  Southampton  that  Gertrude  had 
been  taken.  In  her  weak,  exhausted  condition 
she  troubled  herself  little  enough  at  first  about 
events  past,  present,  or  to  come.  Passively  she 
submitted  to  be  taken  to  a  big  hotel,  and  put  to 
bed  by  some  kindly  women  folk ;  passively  she 
gave  her  sister-in-law's  address,  when  asked  if  she 
wished  to  telegraph  to  any  friend  ;  passively  she 
took  some  restoratives  that  were  brought  her,  and 
then  she  slept.  It  had  been  the  very  luxury  of 
languor,  a  state  of  mind  to  be  envied  by  the  angels, 
who,  we  infer,  suffer  still,  since  it  is  possible  to 
make  them  weep.  But  Gertrude  had  got  beyond 
all  that  for  the  moment.  This  last  calamity  was 
in  reality  a  blessing  to  her,  a  relief  to  her  mind, 
which,  when  she  awoke  late  in  the  afternoon,  was 
probably  fresher  and  more  vigorous  than  it  would 
have  been  had  her  voyage  been  uninterrupted, 
and  no  such  rest  been  forced  upon  it. 

She  was  not  surprised  when  she  awoke  to  see 
her  sister-in-law  sitting  in  the  window  in  her 
strong,  self-contained  way,  bolt  upright,  working 
busily  but  quietly  at  a  piece  of  embroidery. 

"Is  there  any  news?"  was  Gertrude's  first 
question. 

"  None,"  was  the  laconic  response. 

"  Have  you  brought  my  things  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  all  that  you  brought  to  my  house." 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDE&.  lit 

"  In  that  case  I  shall  be  able  to  leave  by  to- 
night's boat." 

"  I  thought  you  would  wish  to.  How  do  you 
feel  ?  " 

"Quite  well.     I  shall  get  up  at  once." 

"I  dare  say  you  will  be  in  time,  in  spite  of  this 
mishap,"  Miss  Somers  said  cheerfully,  as  she  rolled 
up  her  work.  "  You  will  only  have  missed  one 
Guernsey  boat,  you  know,  and  it  is  hardly  likely 
that  he  would  leave  by  that.  It  would  be  just 
going  from  one  steamer  to  another  if  he  did,  and 
I  rather  fancy  he  will  be  more  in  the  mood  for 
loitering  than  for  haste." 

It  was  in  the  chill  gray  early  morning  that  the 
steamer  with  Gertrude  on  board  touched  the  pier 
at  St.  Malo  next  day.  The  passage  had  been 
rapid,  quiet,  and  uneventful,  as  generally  happens 
the  day  after  an  accident ;  but  the  few  passengers 
who  had  ventured  to  cross  had  been  fidgety, 
frightened,  and  troublesome,  as  is  also  usually  the 
case  on  such  occasions.  The  ladies  refused  to  un- 
dress, and  everybody  was  on  the  alert  all  night. 
The  stewardess,  who  had  been  rescued  from  the 
burning  steamer,  was  being  taken  across  to  come 
back  with  another  of  the  company's  vessels  from 
St.  Malo  next  day  ;  and  Gertrude  had  the  pleasure 
of  finding  Mary  Burt,  the  young  English  girl  who 
had  behaved  with  such  coolness  and  courage  the 
night  before,  among  the  passengers.  She  had 
left  the  ship  in  one  of  the  boats,  been  picked  up 


I  i 2  StNGULA&L  Y  DELUDES. 

by  a  passing  steamer,  and  landed  in  Southampton, 
nothing  the  worse  for  the  experience.  Unfor- 
tunately for  the  three,  the  other  passengers  dis- 
covered that  they  were  survivors,  and  besieged 
them  with  such  attentions  as  the  desire  to  hear 
all  about  it,  and  to  be  able  to  tell  afterward  how 
they  had  talked  familiarly  with  some  who  had  been 
rescued  from  deadly  peril  only  so  short  a  time  be- 
fore, suggested.  The  consequence  was,  that  Ger- 
trude found  herself  on  arriving  somewhat  worn  ; 
but  she  was  ready  to  land  at  once  nevertheless, 
and  stood  waiting  on  deck  while  the  gangway  was 
being  got  ready.  The  scene  with  its  strangeness 
struck  her  dismally,  but  more  because  it  was 
strange,  and  because  she  was  there  alone  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life,  without  any  one  she  loved 
to  sympathize  with  her  feeling  about  it,  than  be- 
cause of  any  unloveliness  in  what  she  saw.  On 
the  contrary,  in  spite  of  the  somewhat  somber 
grayness  which  prevailed,  all  was  passably  pictur- 
esque, and  foreign,  which  is  another  charm.  She 
had  not  much  time,  however,  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  roadway  bordered  with  trees, 
the  tall  gray  houses  with  their  small  windows, 
flush  with  the  walls,  or  seeming  so,  and  the  people 
— mostly  market-women  in  white  caps  and  sabots  ; 
and  the  porteurs,  with  hair  like  blacking-brushes, 
red  woolen  caps  and  blue  blouses — for  her  atten- 
sion  was  almost  immediately  caught  by  the  deaf- 
ening noise  that  a  steamer,  fastened  to  the  pier 


SINGULAR!.  Y  DEL  UDED.  1 13 

just  behind  the  one  she  was  on,  was  making  blow- 
ing off  steam. 

"Do  you  know  what  boat  that  is?"  she 
asked. 

"  The  Guernsey  boat  just  in,"  was  the  answer. 

In  a  moment  Gertrude's  active  practical  mind 
was  on  the  alert.  "  Just  in  ?  "  Then  probably 
he  had  not  landed. 

She  hurried  on  board,  and  asked,  in  her  haste, 
for  "Mr.  Leslie  Somers." 

It  was  one  of  the  ship's  officers  to  whom  she 
had  addressed  herself.  He  did  not  know  the 
passengers,  but  went  politely  to  inquire.  The 
people  were  bustling  on  shore  by  this  time,  and 
Gertrude  eagerly  watched  them  while  she  waited. 
Presently  the  officer  returned  with  the  list  of  pas- 
sengers, and  remarked  that  "Mr.  Leslie  Somers" 
was  not  among  them. 

"  Ah  !  "  Gertrude  exclaimed.  "  Did  I  say 
Leslie  Somers  ?  I  meant  Lawrence  Soames." 

The  officer  looked  at  her  as  if  he  thought  her 
a  little  demented,-  but  handed  her  the  list.  "  Per- 
haps you'll  know  the  name  whan  you  see  it,"  he 
remarked. 

"Oh,  he  has  come!"  she  cried,  overjoyed. 
"  Is  he  below  still  ?  I  must  go  to  him  at 
once.** 

"Ill  go  and  see,  Miss,  if  you  like,"  the  officer 
said,  with  a  grin. 

"  I  should  be  much  obliged  if  you  would,"  Ger- 


X 1 4  SINGULAR!.  Y  DEL  UDED. 

trude  rejoined.  "He  does  not  expect  me  "—  she 
hesitated  awkwardly.  "  I  am  his  wife — will  you 
kindly  tell  him  I  am  here  ?  " 

The  officer  withdrew,  leaving  Gertrude  almost 
overpowered  with  the  sense  of  a  great  relief. 
Whatever  state  of  mind  he  might  be  in,  she  knew 
that,  so  long  as  she  was  with  him,  she  could  suffer 
nothing  like  the  anxiety  and  misery  of  the  last 
few  days. 

But  a  fresh  check  awaited  her.  Mr.  Lawrence 
Soames,  it  seemed,  had  gone  on  shore  the  mo- 
ment they  got  in.  He  had,  however,  left  some  of 
his  luggage,  saying  he  would  send  for  it  or  fetch 
it  by  and  by.  Nobody  knew  where  he  had  gone 
and  there  was  but  one  thing  for  Gertrude  to  do — 
viz.,  to  stay  with  the  luggage.  Heart-sick  with 
the  disappointment,  and  faint  for  want  of  food — 
for  she  had  not  been  able  to  eat  that  morning — 
she  dropped  into  a  seat  on  deck  ;  but  a  man  came 
immediately,  having  apparently  been  sent,  and 
shouted  about  her  in  a  general  way,  "  All  who 
have  no  business  on  board  must  leave  the  ship  at 
once." 

She  got  up  wearily.  "  Would  they  let  me 
wait,  I  wonder,  if  they  knew  ? "  she  said  to  her- 
self. Then,  addressing  the  bawling  man,  she 
asked  for  the  captain. 

"The  captain's  very  busy,  Miss,"  he  answered, 
looking  hard  at  her  purse,  which  she  was  holding 
in  her  hand ;  "  but  I  think  I  could  manage  it," 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  1 1 5 

he  added,  with  an  unmistakable  if -yon-make- it- 
worth-my- while  air. 

Gertrude  gave  him  half  a  crown,  and  presently 
he  returned,  followed  by  the  captain,  a  tall,  dark, 
thin  man,  with  a  worried  irritable  air. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ? "  he  said,  not  over-cour- 
teously. 

"  I  came  to  meet  my  husband/'  Gertrude  ex- 
plained ;  "  but  he  has  gone  on  shore  and  left  no 
message,  and  I  don't  know  where  to  find  him. 
He  has  left  his  luggage,  though.  May  I  stay  here 
and  wait  till  he  comes  for  it  ?  " 

The  captain  frowned.  "  It's  against  the  rules," 
he  said  roughly.  "  Passengers  must  all  go  ashore 
as  soon  as  the  ship's  in.  How'd  we  ever  get  her 
cleaned  up  if  we  let  you  hang  about  the  decks  all 
day?" 

Gertrude  drew  herself  up.  "  I  beg  your  par- 
don," she  said,  proudly.  "I  had  no  idea  of 
inconveniencing  you  to  such  a  great  extent," 
and  she  turned  on  her  heel  and  immediately 
left  the  ship,  the  captain  watching  her  irreso- 
lutely. 

"  Go  after  her  and  tell  her  I  don't  mind,"  he 
roared  at  last  at  the  man  she  had  sent  to  fetch 
him,  as  if  the  latter  were  responsible  for  his  bad 
temper. 

"  But  /  do,"  was  Gertrude's  answer  when  the 
message  was  delivered  to  her. 

Human  nature  will  out,  and  in  the  midst  of  all 


her  anxiety  she  could  not  stifle  her  pride  enough 
to  accept  the  favor  of  a  seat  on  his  ship  at  the 
hands  of  such  a  boor,  so  she  decided  to  wait  and 
watch  upon  the  quay. 


SIMG  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  1 1 ? 


IT  was  an  uncomfortable,  not  to  say  a  galling, 
position  for  a  young  and  delicately  nurtured 
gentlewoman,  loitering  about  on  that  foreign 
quay,  among  the  crowd  of  sailors,  porters,  and, 
more  offensive  still,  the  idle  loungers,  with  leisure 
to  observe  her  and  become  curious  about  her  ob- 
ject. She  was  afraid  to  go  far  from  the  gangwayr 
and  there  was  no  seat  near  it,  nor  even  a  post  to 
lean  against.  She  was  afraid  to  walk  up  and 
down  lest  her  husband's  messenger,  who  might 
be  on  board  the  ship  even  then  for  anything  she 
knew,  should  leave  it  with  the  luggage  when  her 
back  was  turned.  Providence  had  favored  her 
search  so  far — she  had  all  but  succeeded,  and 
failure  at  this  last  moment  seemed  impossible ; 
but  her  anxiety  was  trebled,  nevertheless,  and 
an  unbearable  feeling  of  irritation,  the  conse- 
quence of  over-excitement  and  the  abnormal  ten- 
sion of  her  nerves,  began  to  oppress  her.  She 
would  have  given  anything  for  a  glass  of  water — 
anything  to  sit  down — yet  she  could  not  stand 
still. 

This  was  the  most  trying  experience  she  had 
had  yet.     It  was  worse  in  its  way  than  the  burn- 


1 1 8  S1NGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

ing  ship.  Up  and  and  down  she  paced  from  the  edge 
of  the  quay  to  the  road,  walking  beside  the  planks 
down  which  the  cargo  from  the  ship  was  being 
wheeled,  so  as  not  to  lose  sight  of  the  gangway; 
hustled  and  jostled  by  men  carrying  heavy  weights, 
abused  with  round  oaths  in  the  Breton  patois  for 
getting  in  the  way,  and,  worse  still,  admired  and 
openly  complimented  on  her  good  points,  fortu- 
nately in  terms  which  she  did  not  understand, 
though  she  might,  had  she  been  less  preoccupied, 
have  guessedsomething  of  the  matter  from  the  man- 
ner of  the  speech — through  it  all,  and  feeling  it  all 
in  a  way,  she  stuck  to  her  post.  Bui  her  face  grew 
pale,  her  eyes  haggard,  her  gait  uncertain  ;  and 
any  observer  with  the  least  sympathy  must  have 
been  struck  with  the  terrible  anxiety  expressed, 
like  Cressida's  character  to  the  shrewd  old  man, 
in  "  every  joint  and  motive  of  her  body." 

\nd,  meantime,  the  morning  mist  had  cleared 
away.  The  sun  came  out  and  dried  the  roadways. 
The  dust  began  to  blow  about.  Tourists  and 
summer  visitors  staying  in  St.  Malo  began  to  ap- 
pear and  pass — the  ladies  in  fresh  toilets,  the  men- 
with  sun-umbrellas,  light  clothing,  and  blue  glasses 
to  keep  off  the  glare. 

Gertrude  had  not  thought  of  her  luggage  since 
she  left  her  own  steamer,  but  seeing  a  trunk  car- 
ried past  that  somewhat  resembled  her  own  re- 
minded her  of  the  necessity  of  getting  it  passed 
through  the  douane,  ready  to  carry  off  with  her 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  1 19 

at  a  moment's  notice.  But  how  should  she  man- 
age it  ?  She  could  not  leave  her  post,  and  if  she 
sent  a  messenger,  he  would  not  know  her  things  : 
besides,  whom  could  she  trust  ?  The  douane  was 
close  by. .  She  might  perhaps  get  some  one  to 
watch  for  her,  with  orders  to  come  and  fetch  her 
if  her  husband  or  his  messenger  should  arrive.  It 
would  take  a  little  time  to  collect  his  things — he 
seemed  to  have  more  than  the  bag  now — and  get 
them  off  the  ship  ;  he  would  not  come  and  go  in 
a  moment.  But  no ;  it  would  be  a  risk,  and  if 
she  had  to  travel  over  Europe  till  the  dress  she 
stood  in  dropped  off,  she  would  not  run  it. 

While  she  was  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  quay, 
cogitating,  she  gradually  became  aware  of  a  new 
discomfort.  For  some  time  past  she  had  noticed, 
without  much  heeding,  an  elderly  Frenchman, 
evidently  a  gentleman,  loitering  near  her.  She 
had  not  wasted  a  thought  upon  him,  but  now, 
turning  round  suddenly,  she  was  quite  startled 
to  find  him  standing  close  beside  her,  eying  her 
•with  that  bold,  admiring  glance  which  is  either 
ridiculous  or  revolting  to  a  woman,  according  to 
her  mood  at  the  moment  ;  and  it  then  occurred  to 
her  that  she  herself  was  the  object  of  his  attentions. 
For  a  moment  she  was  afraid  he  was  going  to 
speak  to  her,  and  involuntarily  she  looked  round 
for  a  protector.  The  officer  to  whom  she  had 
addressed  herself  on  going  on  board  the  steamer 
was  standing  just  above  her,  leaning  over  the  bu^ 


120  SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED. 

warks,  evidently  watching  the  little  scene  below. 
Gertrude's  wits  were  sharpened  by  the  emergency. 
The  young  man  had  a  pleasant  face,  and  there 
was  something  in  it  at  the  moment  which  seemed 
to  indicate  all  an  Englishman's  objection  to  allow 
a  countrywoman  to  be  insulted,  especially  by  a 
foreigner. 

"Do  come  to  me  !"  Gertrude  exclaimed,  and 
the  next  instant  he  had  vaulted  over  the  bulwark, 
and  was  standing  beside  her  on  the  quay. 

The  Frenchman,  probably  feeling  himself  no 
match  for  the  brawny  young  Briton,  withdrew 
scowling. 

"  I  was  afraid  he  was  going  to  speak  to  me/' 
Gertrude  said. 

"  Well,  yes,  I  guess  he  was,"  the  young  man 
answered,  complacently,  well  pleased  with  his  own 
prowess,  and  not  inclined  to  cheapen  it  by  denying 
the  necessity. 

"  It  is  dreadful  waiting  here,"  poor  Gertrude 
complained,  with  a  sort  of  dry  sob. 

"  Then  why  do  you  wait  ? "  he  answered,  with 
the  familiar  gaucherie  of  his  class. 

"  I  am  waiting  for  my  husband." 

"  Yes,  but  why  not  wait  at  a  hotel,  and  leave 
word  where  you've  gone  to  ?  This  is  no  place  for 
a  girl — let  alone  a  lady/'  he  added. 

"  My  husband  might  not  come  to  me/'  she 
answered,  despondingly. 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  121 

"  Have  you  quarreled  ? "  he  asked,  without 
delicacy. 

"No,"  she  replied,  then  looked  at  him.  His 
manners  were  unpolished,  and  he  was  rather 
common,  not  at  all  a  gentleman  in  fact,  but  he 
had  a  good  honest  English  face,  and  her  woman's 
insight  urged  her  to  trust  him.  She  was  sorely  in 
need  of  help,  and  here  probably  was  just  what  she 
wanted.  "  I  am  in  great  trouble, "she said,  look- 
ing up  at  the  young  man  appealingly.  "My  hus- 
band is  out  of  his  mind.  He  imagines  he  is  some- 
body else,  and  he  went  away  from  home  suddenly, 
and  I  have  followed  him,  and  hope  to  be  able  to 
bring  him  back  without  publicity.  He  is  suffer- 
ing from  the  effects  of  overwork,  and  will  soon  re- 
cover, the  doctor  says  ;  but  he  is  a  well-known  man, 
a  London  barrister,  and  it  would  do  him  harm  in 
his  profession  if  it  got  into  the  papers.  He  would 
never  be  made  a  judge,  you  know,  and  now  he  has 
every  chance  of  the  next  vacancy.  That  is  why 
we  are  so  anxious  to  keep  this  quiet.  Oh,  if  you 
could  help  me  to  find  him  ! " 

"  I'm  your  man,"  he  asserted,  bluntly.  "  And 
I'm  glad  you've  told  me,  for  when  you  weren't 
sure  of  his  name  this  morning,  I  thought  it  looked 
fishy.  I  suppose  he's  took  another  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  Well,  I'm  off  duty  till  midnight,  and  I'll  do 
anything  I  can." 

*'  Oh,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  grateful  I  shall 


1 2 2  SING ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

6e  !  "  poor  Gertrude  exclaimed.  "  Would  you 
mind  waiting  here  till  I  get  my  own  luggage 
through  the  custom-house  ?  And  will  you  send 
for  me  at  once  if  he  comes  or  sends  a  messsenger?  " 

"All  right.  Never  fear,"  was  the  confident  re- 
sponse, and  away  she  'went,  returning  in  a  very 
short  time  with  a  porter  carrying  her  box  and 
bag. 

The  young  officer  met  her  at  the  gangway. 
"You  must  come  on  board," he  said. 

"  Oh,  no,  1  can't,"  she  replied,  remembering 
the  captain. 

"  It's  captain's  orders,"  he  explained.  "  Fve 
told  him." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  you  did  not  tell  that  dreadful 
man  ?  " 

"  Not  such  a  dreadful  man  neither,"  he  an- 
swered, slightly  huffed.  "You  don't  know  the 
captain.  He's  all  bark  but  no  bite,  I  can  tell  you." 

Just  then  the  captain  himself  appeared. 

"  You've  been  six  hours  loitering  about  that 
quay  alone,  and  in  trouble,"  he  roared  at  her, 
"  and  had  nothing  to  do  all  the  time  but  to  come 
on  board,  and  be  among  friends.  It's  just  your 
bad  temper  that  stands  in  your  way.  How 
do  you  expect  to  get  on  in  the  world  at  this  rate  ? 
It's  childish,  that's  what  it  is  ;  and  your  little 
face  " —  waxing  angrier — "  is  as  pinched  as  if  you'd 
been  in  want.  And  likely  enough  that's  it,"  he 
added,  in  a  milder  tone,  as  if  bleased  by  his  own 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  123 

sagacity.  "  I'll  stake  my  mother's  love  you've  not 
had  a  morsel  to-day." 

Gertrude  looked  up  at  him  with  a  wan  little 
smile  ;  something  in  the  tone  of  his  last  remark 
had  caused  all  that  was  repulsive  in  his  loudness 
and  lanky  grimness  to  disappear,  making  plain  to 
her  a  man  ashamed  of  his  own  kind  nature,  and 
always  at  war  with  it,  to  hide  it.  She  followed 
him  to  the  saloon  quite  contentedly,  and  he 
ordered  breakfast  for  her,  scolding  all  the  time,  till 
at  last  she  said,  "  It  is  no  use  pretending  to  he 
cross.  I  see  you  have  the  kindest  heart  on  earth. 
You  can  never  hide  it  again  from  me."  His 
mouth  relaxed  a  little  at  that,  and  his  kind  eyes 
twinkled.  He  sat  down  on  the  other  side  of  the 
narrow  table,  and  after  an  explosion  or  two  at 
the  steward,  and  at  Gertrude's  small  appetite, 
lowered  his  loud  tone,  and  listened  to  her  troubles 
like  a  human  being. 

She  waited  comfortably  on  deck  under  an  awn- 
ing till  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  She 
was  not  of  a  worrying  disposition  ;  her  mind  was 
strong  and  placid  naturally,  and  she  was  accord- 
ingly able  to  make  the  most,  by  resting  from  all 
thought  of  her  troubles,  of  this  brief  and  precious 
interval  of  quiet.  She  had  only  to  wait  now  ;  there 
was  nothing  else  to  be  done,  and  she  recognized 
that  fact,  and  waited  calmly,  gathering  fresh 
strength  the  while  for  what  might  yet  be  in  store 
for  her.  This  blessed  renewal  of  strength  in 


124  S1NGULARL  Y  DELUDED. 

exhausting  emergencies  is  the  reward  of  patience. 
We  should  bear  up  better  under  our  troubles  if 
we  cultivated  a  cheerful  frame  of  mind  as  a  matter 
of  habit,  and  forced  ourselves  to  be  serene. 
Gertrude  was  almost  able  to  amuse  herself  as  she 
sat  there,  watching  the  porteurs  toiling  in  the 
heat,  and  interested  in  the  groups  of  well-dressed 
people  who  appeared  and  passed,  or  loitered  look- 
ing at  the  ships. 

But  at  last  the  messenger  arrived,  a  porteur 
from  the  H6tel  des  Bains  at  Dinard.  Gertrude 
had  not  dared  to  hope  that  her  husband  would 
come  himself,  and  was  therefore  not  disappointed. 
The  porteur  said,  "Monsieur  Sommes,"  had  de- 
clared he  had  seen  more  pretty  women  and  pink 
parasols  since  he  landed  in  Brittany  that  morning 
than  it  had  been  his  luck  to  encounter  anywhere 
else  in  six  months  and  he  meant  to  stay  a  week. 
Gertrude  sighed.  Here  again  it  seemed  hard 
that  even  disease  could  make  her  husband,  one 
of  the  most  fastidiously  refined  of  men,  so  far 
forget  not  only  her  but  himself  as  to  speak  in 
tnat  common  way. 

Her  luggage  was  given  to  another  porteur,  and 
after  taking  leave  of  her  kind  friends  on  the 
steamer,  with  sincere  expressions  of  gratitude, 
and  the  captain's  name  and  address  written  in  a 
savage  hand  on  a  huge  piece  of  paper,  as  if  the 
size  of  the  writing  and  the  sheet  were  intended  to 
represent  the  extent  of  his  anxiety  to  hear  of  her 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  125 

welfare,  she  departed — not,  however,  without  a 
last  blowing-up,  the  worst  she  had  had,  the  trouble 
being  that  there  was  no  carriage  to  be  had  to  take 
her  round  the  corner  to  the  other  landing  stage, 
where  the  steam  ferry-boats  pick  up  passengers 
for  Dinard. 

It  was  with  a  light  step  and  a  great  sense  of  re- 
lief that  she  followed  the  porteurs  to  the  quay. 
The  prospect  of  seeing  her  husband  again  made 
her  heart  bound.  Just  to  see  him  again,  just  to  be 
near  him,  even  if  she  might  not  touch  him,  would 
be  new  life  to  her.  And  it  would  not  be  long 
now,  she  thought,  looking  across  the  strip  of  water 
to  Dinard — ten  or  twenty  minutes  at  the  most. 
She  fancied  she  saw  the  steamer  starting  for  St. 
Malo  at  that  moment.  The  porteur  put  her  things 
down  on  the  quay,  and  demanded  payment.  The 
captain  had  thoughtfully  provided  her  with  some 
French  money,  otherwise  she  would  have  found 
herself  in  a  fix ;  but  as  it  was,  she  paid  the  man 
what  he  asked  on  the  spot,  and  he  went  off  at 
once.  The  people  near  her  on  the  quay  looked  at 
each  other  and  grinned — she  wondered  why,  but 
by  and  by  when  the  steamer  arrived  she  under- 
stood. The  wretch  had  left  her  to  get  her  lug- 
gage on  board  as  best  she  could.  The  porteur 
from  the  H6tel  des  Bains,  who  had  charge  of  her 
husband's  luggage,  went  on  board  as  soon  as  the 
little  steamer  arrived,  also  leaving  her  without 
ceremony  to  shift  for  herself.  This  she  could  and 


126  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

would  have  done  without  hesitation  had  it  been 
possible  ;  bat  her  box  was  an  unwieldy  one  :  lift- 
ing it  was  out  of  the  question,  and  she  found  when 
she  tried  that  she  could  not  drag  it  either.  She 
looked  round  for  help  in  her  dilemma.  The  peo- 
ple were  all  hurrying  on  their  own  account,  and 
paid  no  heed  to  her  ;  or,  if  they  happened  to  have 
arranged  their  own  affairs,  and  had  leisure  to  ob- 
serve her,  it  was  without  sympathy,  and  she  dared 
not  ask  for  help.  It  was  her  first  experience  of 
the  world  in  all  its  hardness  and  cruelty.  The 
people  about  her  professed  in  church  to  be  her 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  to  love  her  as  themselves, 
yet  her  forlorn  position  at  the  moment,  a  well- 
dressed  girl,  alone  and  unattended,  made  them 
suspicions,  and  her  evident  need  of  help  caused 
them  to  stand  aloof.  She  began  to  despair. 
"  What  shall  I  do ! "  she  exclaimed  aloud.  A 
good-natured-looking  fat  old  bourgeois  going  on 
board  at  the  moment  caught  the  exclamation,  un- 
derstanding the  tone  rather  than  the  words,  and 
seeing  her  fix,  suggested  "  Ces  gallons  la,"  and 
passed  on.  She  looked  in  the  direction  he  had 
indicated  with  a  backward  toss  of  his  head  and  a 
shrug,  and  saw  two  lads  lounging  by  with  their 
hands  in  their  pockets.  She  ran  after  them  and 
brought  them  back  with  her.  They  carried  her 
box  on  board  in  a  twinkling,  and  then  returning, 
placed  themselves  so  that  she  could  not  pass  them 
to  get  on  board,  and  demanded  a  franc  apiece  for 


SING ULARLY  DEL UDED.  127 

their  trouble.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
pay  them.  She  ought  of  course  to  have  followed 
her  box  on  board,  but  a  number  of  people,  late  for 
the  steamer,  had  come  hurrying  up  at  the  mo- 
ment, and  she  had  timidly  hung  back  to  avoid  the 
crush.  She  made  a  frantic  dive  for  her  pocket 
now  ;  but  as  usual  in  these  days  it  was  not  to  be 
found,  the  way  of  modern  dressmakers  being  to 
consult  their  own  convenience  in  the  arrangement 
of  the  drapery,  rather  than  the  comfort  of  their 
clients.  Nearly  a  minute  was  lost  in  this  exasper- 
ating search  ;  but  at  last  she  succeeded  in  getting 
out  her  purse  and,  having  satisfied  the  young 
ruffians,  turned  to  go  on  board  the  steamer,  only 
to  find,  however,  that  the  gangway  was  up,  and 
it  was  too  far  from  the  wharf  already  for  her  even 
to  jump  the  distance.  She  fairly  stamped  with 
rage,  and  then  felt  inclined  to  laugh  at  her  own 
vehemence.  For  after  all,  as  an  old  apple-woman 
at  a  stall  close  by  informed  her,  it  was  only  a  mat- 
ter of  half  an  hour,  or  an  hour  at  most,  till  the 
boat  returned,  and  it  was  no  great  hardship  wait- 
ing there  on  a  warm  afternoon,  with  the  sapphire 
sea  sparkling  at  her  feet,  Dinard  with  its  green 
cliffs  and  white  houses  rising  picturesquely  from 
the  water's  edge  just  opposite,  and  St.  Servan  on 
her  left,  all  glowing  in  the  afternoon  sunlight. 
Recovering  herself  at  once,  she  sat  down  beside 
the  old  apple-woman  and  began  to  talk.  The  old 
woman  complimented  her  on  her  French,  abused 


128  S/NG ULARLY  DEL UDED. 

the  yonng  voleurs  who  had  done  her  such  an  ill 
turn,  and  then.began  to  talk  of  her  own  hard  life, 
and  the  struggle  it  was,  since  she  lost  her  own 
good  man,  to  keep  body  and  soul  together.  It 
was  not  so  bad  at  that  time  of  the  year,  of  course, 
for  the  heat  was  comfort  in  itself,  and  then  it 
made  the  appetite  less,  so  that  small  quantities 
of  food  sufficed,  and  hunger  did  not  gnaw  ;  but 
in  the  winter,  when  it  froze,  ah  ! — with  an  ex- 
pressive catching  of  the  breath  and  hugging  of 
herself — it  was  indeed  "la  vie  des  mis6rables." 
But  mademoiselle  must  pardon  her.  What  did 
young  ladies  know  of  misery  ?  Doubtless  made- 
moiselle had  all  that  heart  could  desire.  And  the 
old  woman  looked  at  her  admiringly  and  without 
bitterness  out  of  big  brown  eyes  that  had  once  no 
doubt  been  brilliant,  and  still  possessed  a  certain 
beauty  of  their  own — the  beauty  and  pathos  of 
patient  suffering  and  dead  hope,  wasting  diseases 
of  the  soul  which  have  their  graces  of  expression, 
even  as  certain  forms  of  bodily  decay  have 
theirs. 

"  I  have  a  great  deal  to  be  thankful  for,  cer- 
tainly," Gertrude  answered,  sadly.  "  But  I 
have  my  troubles  too,  ma  mbre"  and  then  she 
talked  of  her  recent  trials  till  the  old  woman 
forgot  her  own.  She  was  a  delightful  old  wo- 
man, with  cap  and  kerchief  snowy  white  in  spite 
of  her  poverty,  a  blue  serge  gown  just  down  to 
her  ankles,  and  neat  strong  shoes  with  knitted 


SINGULAR!.  Y  DEL  UDED.  129 

stockings.  When  they  parted  Gertrude  made 
her  rich  with  half  a  sovereign,  and  happy  for 
life  with  a  handsome  gold  cross,  which  the  old 
woman  refused  at  first,  but  afterward  accepted 
when  Gertrude  demanded  in  return  for  it  a  daily 
prayer. 

Gertrude  hegan  to  feel  tired  as  she  climbed 
up  the  steep  street  from  the  landing-stage  at 
Dinard  into  the  town.  Fortunately  the  H6tel 
des  Bains  was  close  by,  and  there  she  found  her 
luggage,  the  porteur  having  consulted  the  inter- 
ests of  the  house  by  ordering  it  to  be  brought  up 
from  the  steamer  when  he  arrived  with  what  he 
had  been  sent  for. 

Gertrude  noticed  a  noisy  party  of  gentlemen 
clambering  up  a  coach-and-four,  evidently  a  some- 
what ramshackle  public  conveyance,  which  was 
drawnjip  on  the  road  jnst  beyond  the  hotel,  and 
after  she  entered  she  heard  it  rattling  off. 

"  My  husband  has  taken  rooms  here,  I  think/' 
she  said  to  the  landlady,  who  had  come  out  of 
her  own  room — half  bedroom,  half  sitting-room, 
store-room,  and  linen-cupboard — to  welcome  her. 
"Mr.  Lawrence  Soames." 

"  Ah  !  Meester  Lawrence  Sommes  ! "  the  good 
woman  exclaimed,  throwing  up  her  hands.  "  He 
came.  He  was  going  to  stay  forever  !  And 
behold  him,  a  I'instant  meme,  departed  by  the 
voiture  publique  for  Dinan.  Did  he  not  expect 
madame  ?  " 


130  SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

"  No,"  Gertrude  answered,  without  any  show 
of  emotion.  It  sounds  almost  absurd  to  put  it 
so,  but  the  greatness  of  this  last  and  most  un- 
expected disappointment  made  her  feel  it  at  the 
moment  less  than  any  of  the  others.  "  He  has 
been  in  Guernsey,  and  I  came  over  from  South- 
ampton, so  we  missed  each  other.  But  I  suppose 
I  can  get  a  carriage  and  follow  him  ?  " 

"Impossible,"  the  good  Madame  Filippo  told 
her.  "  Even  if  the  horses  for  hire  were  not  so 
miserable,  tho  drivers  were  perfect  brigands,  and 
it  would  not  be  safe  for  a  young  lady  alone." 

Just  then  Monsieur  Filippo  arrived  on  the 
scene,  in  white  clothing  and  a  paper  hat,  which 
he  doffed  with  affectionate  deference  to  his  guest, 
and  the  circumstances  were  explained  to  him. 

For  a  few  seconds  he  lent  his  masculine  mind 
to  the  problem,  with  an  air  of  perplexity. 

"  Madame  wished  to  overtake  her  husband  at 
once,"  he  said,  pinching  his  chin  thoughtfully. 
"It  was  very  natural.  Attendez!  I  am  there  ! 
rriiere  is  the  serviced,  vapeur  de  St.  Malo  a  Dinan. 
Stay,  voila  la  carte.  LG  steamer  Ille-et- Ranee — 
heures  de  depart " — running  his  finger  down  the 
table — "  ce  soir — dix  heures— -premieres,  two 
francs  fifty — aller  et  retour,  premieres,  four 
francs — I  suppose  madame  will  go  first  single  ? 
It  is  beautiful  on  the  river.  All  the  English  love 
it  much." 

"  But  madame  a  V  air  fatigue,"  Madame  Filippo 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  131 

suggested  ;  "  perhaps  it  would  suit  her  better  to 
rest  here  for  the  night  ?  " 

"I  should  like  it,"  Gertrude  said,  feeling  worn 
to  death,  and  quite  at  home  with  these  honest 
people,  who  were  certainly  doing  all  they  could 
for  her  without  reference  to  their  own  profit, 
"  but  1  must  rroiii  my  husband  as  soon  as  possible. 
I  will  dine  here,  though,  if  you  please,  and  I  will 
get  you  to  look  after  this  big  box  of  mine — it  is 
in  my  way — till  I  come  back  or  send  for  it.  I 
have  all  I  want  in  my  bag.''  A  few  hours  later, 
Monsieur  Filippo,  having  cooked  the  most  appetiz- 
ing little  dinner  in  the  world  for  her,  escorted 
her  to  St.  Halo,  and  saw  her  safely  off  on  the 
steamer  on  her  way  up  the  Eanoe  to  Dinau. 


132  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  steamer  was  a  miserable  little  affair. 
There  was  no  cabin  fit  for  a  lady  on  board,  and 
Gertrude  was  therefore  obliged  to  remain  on  deck  ; 
but  this  was  no  hardship.  The  only  discomfort 
was  the  night  air,  which  was  chilly  ;  but  good 
Monsieur  Filippo  had  warned  her  to  keep  out  -a 
wrap,  and  she  had  accordingly  taken  her  white 
mackintosh,  which,  with  its  hood,  covered  her 
from  head  to  foot,  keeping  the  heavy  dew  as  well 
as  the  breeze  off,  and  the  heat  in.  Sitting  there 
alone  in  her  patient  way,  motionless,  hour  after 
hour,  with  the  long  white  garment  draped  iu 
shadowy  folds  about  her,  and  the  moonlight  fall- 
ing full  upon  her  steady  eyes  and  placid  face,  she 
looked  like  a  devotee  of  some  new  order,  passing 
from  a  known  present  to  an  unknown"  future  with 
confidence  if  not  with  joy. 

The  river  scenery  was  all  beautiful  by  that 
light ;  parts  of  it  were  fairy-like,  and  it  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  she  enjoyed  it  at  the  time,  and 
always  afterward  the  recollection  of  it  was  a  pleas- 
ure unaccompanied  by  any  painful  association. 
The  shock-  of  the  last  disappointment  had  brought 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  133 

her  one  blessed  relief — she  had  ceased  for  the 
time  being  to  expect,  ceased  to  flatter  herself  with 
false  hopes  of  immediate  success.  She  did  not 
take  it  for  granted  now,  as  she  would  have  done 
at  first,  that  she  should  overtake  her  husband  at 
Dinan  and  have-  no  more  trouble  ;  on  the  con- 
trary, she  quieted  her  mind  as  much  as  she  could, 
so  as  to  rest  it,  that  she  might  have  the  strength 
to  continue  her  journey  without  delay  should  it 
be  necessary.  She  also  arranged  her  plan  of  ac- 
tion. She  had  found  out  from  Monsieur  Filippo 
where  the  coach  stopped — it  was  at  one  of  the 
hotels  ;  and  she  meant  to  begin  there,  and  if  she 
did  not  find  her  husband,  go  on  from  one  to  an- 
other till  she  did.  Happily  she  was  spared  this 
trial.  Her  husband  so  far  had  not  been  difficult 
to  trace.  His  course  had  been  erratic  as  a  comet's, 
but  everywhere  he  had  made -an  impression  which 
helped  her  to  identify  him.  It  was  not  a  very 
favorable  impression,  she  sometimes  feared,  and  it 
was  certainly  very  different  from  the  one  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  produce  ;  but  still  she  felt  she 
should  be  thankful  that  his  madness  had  not 
taken  a  quieter  form,  which  might  have  enabled 
him  to  pass  everywhere  unobserved,  and  so  made 
it  impossible  for  her  to  find  him.  It  was  gray 
morning  when  she  arrived  at  Dinan.  She  was 
stiff  with  the  long  hours  spent  in  the  night  air  on 
the  deck  of  the  little  steamer,  and  so  weary  that, 
although  she  did  what  she  had  set  herself  to  do, 


134  SfAfy ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

she  did  it  mechanically,  and  without  the  slightest 
anxiety  as  to  the  result.  Yet  the  landing  had 
made  an  impression  on  her  which  she  could  always 
recall  ;  a  curious  impression  first  of  looking  up — 
from  the  deck  of  the  steamer  doubtless — at  the 
great  viaduct  stretching  from  cliff  to  cliff  in  front 
of  her,  and  at  what  seemed  a  gigantic  castle  with 
trees  and  terraced  gardens  towering  to  an  immense 
height  above  her  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the 
other  great  cliffs  that  seemed  to  touch  the  sky. 
Then  she  recollected  being  on  the  height  herself 
— though  how  she  got  there  she  never  knew — 
looking  down  on  a  ribbon  of  a  river  and  a  nutshell 
of  a  boat. 

The  people  at  the  hotel  where  the  coach  stopped 
were  Tip  and  preparing  breakfast  in  expectation 
of  arrivals  from  the  steamer.  Yes,  Monsieur 
Sommes  had  dined  there  the, evening  before,  and 
been  the  life  and  soul  of  the  party.  He  had 
gone  out  afterward  to  have  a  look  at  the  town  ; 
had  declared  on  his  return  that  it  was  a  rotten  old 
hole  full  of  moldy  monks  and  nuns  ;  had  heard 
that  there  was  to  be  a  high  tide  at  the  Mont  St. 
Michel  next  day,  and  had  gone  off  at  once  vid 
Dol  to  see  it  come  in.  How  could  she  get  to  the 
Mont  St.  Michel  ?  Gertrude  asked — in  her  sleep, 
as  it  seemed  to  herself.  The  Mont  St.  Michel  was 
in  Normandy,  and  she  was  in  Brittany  surely. 
She  had  some  sort  of  vague  notion  it  must  be 
hundreds  of  miles  away. 


SJNGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  135 

Oh,  they  told  her,,  it  was  easy  enough.  There 
was  the  railway  to  Dol,  and  at  Dol  she  could  hire 
a  private  vehicle  and  drive  the  rest  of  the  dis- 
tance, passing  through  Pontorson — a  beautiful 
country,  madam e  would  certainly  enjoy  it.  Ma- 
dame did  certainly  traverse  it,  but  she  never  knew 
how  she  accomplished  the  feat,  for  her  enjoyment, 
if  any  she  had,  was  taken  out  in  sleep.  A  deadly 
drowsiness  came  over  her  in  the  hotel  at  Dinan 
where  she  breakfasted.  She  must  have  lived  and 
moved  through  it,  and  had  her  being,  as  people 
do  when  wide  awake,  but  the  faculty  she  used  was 
the  one  we  work  in  dreams.  For  the  first  thing 
of  which  she  was  conscious  in  a  natural  way,  after 
she  had  breakfasted  at  Dinan,  was  the  sudden 
ceasing  of  some  noise.  She  straightened  herself 
to  see  what  it  was,  and  then  she  found  that  she  had 
been  lying  hack  in  a  lumbering  old  carriage  which 
had  just  been  stopped  on  the  edge  of  a  desert  of 
sand.  Some  tamarisk  bushes  were  growing  near 
her,  and  on  the  seat  opposite  was  a  branch  of 
beautiful  rosy  apples  set  off  by  their  own  green 
leaves — a  delicate  attention  of  the  driver's,  doubt- 
less, plucked  by  the  way,  for  it  was  the  time  of 
apples  there,  and  all  the  country  was  sweet  with 
them. 

Waking  slowly  to  full  consciousness,  she  glanced 
from  these  trifling  objects  to  the  driver  himself, 
and  found  him  looking  at  her.  He  wore  a  long 
blue  blouse  over  his  clothes  to  keep  off  the  dust, 


136  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

which  gave  him  a  juvenile  look,  as  of  a  school- 
boy whose  whiskers  had  come  too  soon.  His  hair 
was  black  and  coarse,  his  skin  swarthy,  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face  anxious  and  melancholy,  as 
it  often  is  with  the  Breton  folk,  and,  for  that 
reason  perhaps,  attractive.  Gertrude  felt  a  lik- 
ing for  him  at  once.  He  had  stopped  to  show  her 
that  great  object  of  interest,  the  Mont  St.  Michel, 
rising  up  gaunt  and  alone  out  of  a  wilderness  of 
sand,  like  a  cottage  loaf  on  a  bare  board,  and 
Avranche  over  there  where  the  sun  was  shining ; 
and  the  direction  from  which  would  come  the  sea, 
which  not  only  went  out  here,  but  went  out  of 
sight,  and  then  came  back  like  a  race-horse,  a 
wall  of  water,  sometimes  ten  feet  high,  which 
swept  all  before  it — and  woe  be  then  to  the  loi- 
terer who  might  have  wandered  out  on  the  sands  ! 
And  there  were  other  dangers  too — the  quick- 
sands, which  were  strong  enough  to  swallow  man 
and  horse,  and  always  shifting  after  every  tide  ; 
and  the  rivers  yonder,  changing  their  courses 
often,  so  that  you  never  knew  where  you  were. 
What  was  the  road  to  the  Mont  to-day,  there  across 
the  sand,  would  be  obliterated  to-morrow,  and 
might  be  the  bed  of  a  river.  It  was  like  life,  as 
he  often  thought,  all  uncertainty,  danger,  and 
difficulty — with  which  he  whipped  up  his  horse, 
and  they  began  to  .plunge  along  the  heavy  track 
made  by  previous  vehicles  over  the  sand. 

Gertrude  roused  herself,  and  began  to 


SING  ULA  RL  Y  DEL  UDED.  j  3  7 

think,  Was  her  husband  there  really,  or  had  his 
wandering  mind  led  him  off  in  some  quite  op- 
posite direction,  so  that  she  must  miss  him  after 
all  ?  Heartsick  at  the  prospect,  she  felt  her 
impatience  grow  every  moment,  and  these  last 
few  yards  of  the  journey  seemed  a  never-ending 
interval  of  anxiety  more  tedious  than  all  that  had 
gone  before.  She  was  not  subject  to  phases,  nor 
as  a  rule  to  periods  of  exaltation  and  subsequent 
periods  of  reaction  and  depression.  Reason  was 
the  pilot  that  had  steered  her  so  far  through  all 
her  tranquil  happy  life.  Yet  now,  for  a  won- 
der, doubtless  because  her  physical  condition 
was  lowered  and  weakened  by  fatigue  and  anx- 
iety, she  suddenly  found  herself  in  a  state  of 
morbid  excitement.  She  became  a  prey  to  the 
rage  to  arrive.  The  desire  to  find  her  husband 
and  to  be  with  him  again,  recalled  sensations  of 
extreme  agony.  She  would  have  taken  chloro- 
form gladly  to  escape  it.  The  driver,  when  they 
reached  the  Mont  St.  Michel,  stopped  at  the  first 
hotel  they  came  to,  which,  as  it  seemed  to  Ger- 
trude, was  just  within  the  gate.  A  beautiful  sad- 
faced  woman  in  a  high  white  cap  came  to  the 
door,  as  is  the  kindly  fashion  of  the  country,  and 
welcomed  her  affectionately,  making  her  feel  more 
like  an  expected  friend  than  a  profitable  guest. 
And  perhaps,  because  this  woman's  face  was  sad 
and  affectionate,  Gertrude  felt  her  own  sad  heart 
go  out  to  her  at  once,  and  she  longed  to  take  her 


138  S7NG  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

into  her  confidence.  For  Gertrude,  like  every 
woman  who  truly  loves  one  man  and  is  beloved 
by  him,  appreciated  her  own  sex,  and  when  he  was 
away  was  happiest  with  other  women. 

Mr.  Lawrence  Soames  and  party  had  arrived, 
and  had  just  at  that  moment  gone  up  to  see  the 
cathedral.  They  had  arrived  early  and  been  on 
the  island  all  day,  and  they  had  ordered  dinner 
too,  and  were  going  to  stay  the  night.  Their 
rooms  were  even  then  being  got  ready. 

This,  then,  was  the  goal  gained  at  last ;  and 
here,  Gertrude  thought,  with  a  great  sigh  of  re- 
lief, must  end  the  most  cruel  part  of  her  trouble, 
the  separation,  with  all  the  uncertainty  and  sus- 
pense it  entailed.  Her  husband  would  not  rec- 
ognize her — for  that  she  was  quite  prepared. 
She  had  not  therefore  mentioned  the  relationship 
when  she  asked  for  him  here,  for  fear  of  betray- 
ing his  state  of  mind  to  the  people  of  the  house, 
or  of  leading  them  to  think  her  some  impostor, 
which  was  just  as  probable  a  contingency.  What 
she  intended  was  to  sit  next  him  at  dinner  and 
scrape  acquaintance  with  him,  make  him  fall  in 
love  with  her  over  again,  and  induce  him  to  let 
her  accompany  him. 

"  Mr.  Soames  is  the  friend  of  some  frfends  of 
mine,"  she  explained  to  the  landlady.  "  He 
is  also  a  connection  by  marriage.  He  knew  me 
when  I  was  a  child,  but  he  probably  won't  rec- 
ognize me.  You  might  put  me  next  to  him  at 


SI ATG ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  \^ 

dinner,  though,  and  I  will  recall  myself  to  his 
recollection.  He  will  doubtless  help  me  to  over- 
take my  own  party  when  he  knows  who  I  am.  It 
is  not  pleasant  for  a  lady  to  travel  alone  in  a 
strange  country." 

"Ah,"  the  landlady  said,  "  madame,  avait 
raison,  and  without  doubt  her  relative  would  be 
charmed  to  be  her  escort  till  she  should  overtake 
the  friends  she  had  so  unfortunately  missed.  Such 
aa  arrangement  was  quite  convendble  for  the  Eng- 
lish." 

This  conversation  had  taken  place  in  the  great 
raftered  kitchen,  the  landlady's  attention  being 
unequally  divided  at  the  moment  between  Ger- 
trude and  some  fowls  which  were  roasting  in  front 
of  the  fire  for  dinner,  the  fowls  receiving  the 
larger  share  of  it,  probably  as  being  less  able  to 
help  themselves.  But  Gertrude's  driver,  with  his 
slouch  hat  under  one  arm,  his  whip  under  the 
other,  and  his  long  blue  blouse  tucked  up  at  the 
sides  so  as  to  admit  of  his  putting  his  hands  in 
his  trouser-pockets,  was  standing  close  by,  and 
had  not  lost  a  word  of  what  she  was  saying. 
"When  the  landlady  turned  away,  he  remarked  in 
a  discreet  undertone,  fixing  his  large,  melancholy 
eyes  on  Gertrude  reproachfully  :  "  When  ma- 
dame  hired  my  carriage,  she  said  it  was  her  hus- 
band whom  she  sought  to  overtake,  and  prayed 
me  to  urge  my  horse  and  spare  him  not.  And  to 
the  mind  of  madame,  who  is  too  young  and 


1 40  SING ULARLY  DEL UDED, 

fair  to  be  allowed  to  suffer,  I  drove  like  the  wind. 
But,  alas  !  there  is  no  truth  anywhere,"  with  a 
shrug  of  despair  at  the  appalling  duplicity  of  this 
weary  world. 

Gertrude  looked  at  him  with  troubled  face.  "  I 
did  tell  you  so,"  she  said  ;  "  and,  moreover,  it  is 
the  blessed  truth.  But  what  would  you  have? 
My  unhappy  husband  is  mad.  He  thinks  himself 
another  person.  He  will  not  know  me.  Would 
you  have  me  tell  all  the  world  he  is  my  husband, 
when  he  will  say  he  is  not  ?  or  he  is  mad,  when  to 
those  who  do  not  know  him  he  seems  quite  sane  ? 
They  would  not  believe  it,  and  would  think  me 
mad." 

"Ah!"  the  driver  exclaimed,  withdrawing 
his  hands  from  his  pockets,  and  dropping  his 
whip  and  hat  as  he  held  them  out  toward  her 
clasped,  with  a  quick  gesture  of  sympathy.  "  I 
understand  well.  Madame  is  right.  Madame  did 
well  to  confide  in  me.  I  am  discreet,  and  will  be 
at  the  service  of  madame  whatever  happens.  She 
is  too  young  and  fair  to  be  allowed  to  suffer.  I 
am  her  humble  servant.  She  may  depend  upon 
me,"  and  he  tapped  his  chest  earnestly  with  the  fin- 
gers of  both  hands.  His  face  had  cleared  wonder- 
fully. Gertrude  stood  even,  higher  in  his  esteem 
than  at  first,  and  he  had  placed  her,  to  begin  with, 
next  Our  Lady,  and  treated  her  with  the  same  af- 
fectionate respect. 

The  landlady  now  interposed  with   an  omelet 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  14.1 

for  Gertrude,  which  the  latter  ate  standing  at  the 
kitchen  table,  the  landlady  pressing  her  hospi- 
tably the  while  to  finish  it  all.  Then  she  ordered 
a  substantial  meal  for  her  devoted  driver,  and  went 
to  lie  down  till  dinner-time. 

She  was  worn  out,  but  her  mind  was  at  ease, 
so  that  it  was  no  wonder  if  she  slept.  And  she 
did  sleep  with  a  vengeance,  although  there  had 
been  fracas  enough  in  the  house  to  wake  one  of  the 
seven — slept  till  a  great  hand  was  laid  on  her 
shoulder,  and  she  was  roughly  aroused  by  being 
shaken. 

"Up,  madame!"  cried  the  driver.  ^Mon- 
sieur is  mad  indeed.  He  has  quarreled  with  all 
his  friends.  He  will  leave  the  house  this  moment. 
The  carriage  is  even  now  at  the  door,  and  so  is 
mine — ready  for  madame  to  follow  him.  He  will 
not  dine,  no  !  He  has  damned  the  dinner,  the 
wine,  the  house,  the  high  tide — everything,  in 
fact,  and  everybody.  And  he  is  off !  Hasten, 
for  the  love  of  Our  Lady,  madame  !  " — running 
to  the  window — "even  now  behold  his  carriage 
that  sets  out  ! " 

Pale  as  death,  Gertrude  sprang  from  the  bed, 
caught  up  her  jacket  and  hat,  and  rushed  down- 
stairs without  waiting  to  put  them  on,  forgetting 
her  boots,  which  she  had  taken  off  when  she  went 
to  lie  down,  and  bag.  The  driver,  however,  looked 
round  before  he  left  the  room,  and  gathered  up 
all  her  belongings.  Gertrude  ran  through  tha 


142  SING  ULA  KL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

kitchen  in  her  stockings,  and  jumped  into  the 
carriage,  which  was  ready  at  the  door. 

"  For  God's  sake,  be  quick  ! "  she  cried  to  the 
landlady.  "  Tell  me  what  I  owe  you.  I  must 
overtake  him." 

"  Oh,  del!  "  cried  the  landlady,  "  are  you  mad 
too  ?  "  The  driver  was  on  the  box  by  this  time, 
all  the  guests  in  the  house  had  poured  out,  and  a 
little  crowd  of  the  natives  was  rapidly  collecting. 
Gertrude  threw  a  handful  of  francs  at  her  hostess. 

"  Madame,  it  is  too  much,"  the  latter  shrieked. 
But  the  driver  had  whipped  up  his  horse,  and  her 
words  were  lost  in  the  rattle  of  the  old  machine 
as  it  flew  down  the  narrow  street. 


SING  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDE&.  143 


CHAPTER  XV. 

GERTRUDE,  hatless,  jacketless,  gloveless,  boot- 
less, entirely  forgetful  of  herself,  knelt  on  the 
front  seat  of  the  old  landau,  looking  over  the 
driver's  box  at  the  carriage  in  front  of  them. 
They  were  both  plunging  over  the  heavy  sand 
now,  and  it  was  also  an  old  landau,  so  that  the 
solitary  occupant  sat  with  his  back  to  her.  She 
could  not,  therefore,  see  his  face,  but  she  saw  his 
ruddy  brown  hair,  and  he  wore  the  same  hat  and 
gray  suit  as  on  the  morning  of  his  flight. 

"  0  Leslie,  Leslie  ! "  she  cried  piteously,  stretch- 
ing out  her  hands  to  him. 

"  Courage,  dear  lady,"  the  driver  cried.  e '  With 
the  help  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  we'll  keep  him  in 
sight. 

But  it  was  an  unequal  race,  and  all  the  advan- 
tage was  on  his  side,  for  he  had  two  horses,  and 
they  had  only  one,  with  as  heavy  a  carriage. 

The  track  over  the  sand  that  day  wound  so  as 
to  double  the  distance,  as  the  crow  flies,  of  the 
island  from  the  shore.  "When  they  were  but  half- 
way across,  the  carriage  in  front  of  them  had 
reached  dry  land.  Here  the  driver  pulled  up  for 


1 44  SIttGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

a  moment.  Gertrude  watched  him  with  straining 
eyes.  He  jumped  from  the  box,  and  went  to  look 
at  one  of  the  horses*  feet.  "  A  stone  in  its  hoof, 
I  suppose/'  Gertrude"  explained  to  herself.  It 
took  scarcely  a  second  to  remove  it,  and  then  the 
driver  clambered  back  to  his  seat.  As  he  did  so, 
he  faced  Gertrude's  vehicle,  and  saw  it  without 
evincing  much  interest — carriages  were  common 
enough  in  that  part  of  the  world — but  at  the  same 
time  he  seemed  to  see  something  beyond,  and  in 
an  instant  his  whole  demeanor  changed.  His 
Norman  phlegm  became  Southern  passion.  He 
threw  up  his  hands  and  yelled.  He  jumped  up 
on  the  box  of  his  carriage,  and  danced  and  howled 
till  his  horses,  terrified  by  the  noise,  set  off  down 
the  road  at  a-  gallop,  overthrowing  him  at  the 
start  into  the  body  of  the  coach  on  to  Mr.  Lawrence 
Soames,  who  was  adding  his  quota  in  curses  to 
the  hubbub,  but  in  curses  of  remonstrance,  with- 
out troubling  himself  to  look  round  and  ascertain 
the  cause  of  all  the  uproar.  And  Gertrude  herself 
was  ignorant -of  it.  The  man  had  yelled  two 
words  over  and  over  again.  She  had  heard  them 
distinctly,  and  in  a  way  understood  them  ;  but 
yet  they  had  conveyed  no  significance  to  her  mind, 
because  she  did  not  in  any  way  apply  them  to 
herself.  "  La  maree!  la  maree  f  The  tide  !  the 
tide  ! " 

"  God  of  God  !    Light  of   Light  ! "  cried  her 
own  driver,    "  we  are  lost.    Saints  in  heaven, 


StNGULARL  Y  DELUDED.  145 

save  ns  !  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us  !  0  blessed 
choir  of  saints  and  angels,  come  down  and  carry 
us  out  of  this  !  You  only  can  !  " 

But  the  saints  and  angels  were  busy,  and  did 
not  hear. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  Gertrude  demanded,  looking 
about  her  bewildered,  and  at  first  seeing  nothing 
extraordinary. 

The  man  stood  up  on  his  box,  lashing  the  horse 
with  whip  and  reins,  urging  it  furiously.  "  La 
maree  !  la  marie  I "  he  shouted  at  it,  as  if  it  could 
understand  the  danger  and  be  made  to  go. 

"  The  tide — the  tide,"  Gertrude  echoed  re- 
flectively, trying  to  understand. 

Then  all  in  a  moment  she  knew.  For  yonder 
she  saw  it,  surging  at  the  edges  but  otherwise 
smooth,  a  dense  body  of  water,  solid  and  heavy, 
stealthily,  swiftly,  silently  approaching,  "like  a 
race-horse/'  She  recalled  the  driver's  words,  and 
became  quite  cold  as  she  realized  the  danger  ;  bnt 
outwardly  she  showed  no  sign  of  excitement,  and 
when  she  spoke  her  voice  was  steady  and  clear. 
She  seemed  to  quiet  the  driver's  mad  fury  with  a 
word. 

"  Can  you  swim  ?  "  she  asked,  grasping  his  arm 
— she  was  still  kneeling  on  the  seat  behind  him. 

He  dropped  on  to  the  box,  and  let  his  head  sink 
on  his  breast. 

"Yes,"  he  ejaculated. 

"  So  can  I,"  said  Gertrude.     "  When  the  wave 


1 46  SING  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

overtakes  us,  we  must  throw  ourselves  on  to  it. 
We  shall  only  have  to  keep  up.  It  will  wash  us 
ashore/' 

"  On  to  the  box,  madame  I  "  shrieked  the  man, 
pulling  her  up. 

For  a  moment  they  stood  there  together.  For 
a  moment  the  great  wall  of  water  towered  over 
them.  Then  came  an  overwhelming  rush,  and 
cold,  and  blindness,  and  suffocation,  and  frenzied 
struggles  with  great  agony  of  mind.  But  through 
it  all  Gertrude  was  conscious  of  the  man's  strong 
grasp  upon  her  arm.  He  had  taken  hold  of  her 
to  pull  her  up  on  the  box-seat  beside  him,  and 
never  let  go — never  at  least  until  he  had  drawn  her 
out  of  the  water,  and  laid  her  safe  under  the 
tamarisk  bushes,  high  and  dry  upon  the  sand. 

The  danger  had  been  extreme,  but  it  had  not 
lasted  long,  and  Gertrude  never  lost  her  senses,  so 
that  now,  when  she  had  got  the  salt  water  out  of 
her  eyes,  she  was  able  to  observe.  And  the  first 
thing  that  struck  her  was  the  altered  aspect  of  the 
country.  The  desert  had  disappeared.  The  town- 
clad,  church-crowned  mount,  which  had  looked 
before  like  an  outcast  fragment  of  the  world,  cut 
off  and  disinherited,  was  an  island  now  on  the 
bosom  of  a  l^autiful  lake  ;  and  at  her  feet,  in- 
stead of  the  heavy  road  and  the  blinding  dust  where 
the  ho'rses  had  toiled,  and  her  soul  had  suffered 
for  their  sufferings,  the  little  waves  lapped  and 
gurgled  humorously,  in  innocent  unconsciousness 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  147 

of  all  the  wicked  works  of  the  cruel  old  ocean—- 
or, if  you  like  it  better — 

"  The  beautiful  ocean,  mother  of  wavelets, 
Ling'ring,  and  longing,  and  loving  the  shore  " — 

as  it  is  written  by  some  one  who  doubtless  meant 
something. 

"  But  what  is  that  ?  "  said  Gertrude,  pointing 
to  an  ugly  inexplicable  black  mass,  floating  at  some 
little  distance  from  the  shore. 

"  That,"  said  the  man  despondingly,  "  is  my 
carriage,  and  my  poor  dear  horse." 

Gertrude  turned  to  look  at  him,  intending  to 
say  something  sympathetic.  He  was  sitting  under 
a  tamarisk  bush  at  a  respectful  distance,  in  a  de- 
jected attitude,  looking  the  picture  of  misery. 
But  what  his  appearance  suggested  more  than 
anything  was  the  fact  that  he  was  very  wet. 

"  It's  a  good  thing  it's  a  warm  day,"  Gertrude 
said,  trying  to  make  the  best  of  it,  and  meaning 
that  had  cold  been  added  to  his  wetness  he  must 
have  felt  worse.  But  the  man  was  offended.  He 
thought  her  flippant  and  heartless.  "  It  is  the 
way  of  the  world/'  he  sighed,  gazing  forward  out 
of  large  melancholy  eyes.  "  I  am  ruined,  and 
you  laugh.  What  is  it  to  you  if  I  starve  ?  " 

Gertrude  rose  to  her  feet.  "  It  is  a  great  deal 
to  me,"  she  said  ;  "  you  are  a  good  and  honest 
man,  I  think,  and  on  that  account  alone  it  would 
be  of  consequence,  because  there  are  so  few.  But 


1 48  SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

you  are  a  brave  man  also,  and  I  owe  you  my  life, 
and  on  that  account  too  it  is  of  consequence,  be- 
cause I  am  grateful.  And  I  am  rich.  See  here, 
I  have  a  diamond  ring.  I  bought  it  one  day  be- 
cause the  fancy  took  me,  and  it  is  worth  more, 
probably,  than  your  horse  and  carriage,  or  all  you 
ever  possessed  ;  but  I  will  give  it  to  you  to  keep 
always  if  you  like,  or  you  may  take  it  as  a  pledge, 
and  return  it  when  I  send  you  its  value  in  money 
to  redeem  it." 

The  man  had  risen  when  she  did,  and  now  she 
went  up  to  him  and  put  the  ring  on  his  little  finger. 
She  kept  her  word,  and  some  months  later  sent 
the  money  to  redeem  it,  having,  even  in  the  midst 
of  all  her  own  trouble,  taken  the  precaution  to 
make  a  note  of  his  name  and  address  for  the  pur- 
pose. But  the  Bre'ton  folk  are  sentimental  brig- 
ands, and  the  man  returned  the  check,  saying  he 
preferred  to  keep  the  ring,  if  he  might  be  per- 
mitted,  as  aporte  bonlieur  and  souvenir  of  madame. 
Whereupon,  as  a  matter  of  course,  madame  begged 
him  to  keep  the  check  as  well,  and  they  remained 
fast  friends  forever  after. 

Bnt  now  thoroughly  recovered  by  this  last  exer- 
tion of  her  mind,  Gertrude  began  to  be  practical 
again. 

"  What  are  we  to  do  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "We 
are  losing  such  precious  time  !  " 

"  The  first  thing  for  madame  is  to  be  dried," 
he  answered.  * '  There  is  a  cottage  up  the  road. 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  149 

But  how  can  madame  walk  without  boots  ?  "  with 
a  gesture  of  despair.  But  Gertrude  was  half-way 
to  the  cottage  before  the  words  were  well  out. 
She  would  not  wait  to  have  her  things  properly 
dried,  she  would  only  have  them  wrung  out,  so 
that  she  could  walk  in  them.  There  was  no  car- 
riage to  be  had  nearer  than  Pontorson.  Very  well, 
then,  she  would  walk  to  Pontorson.  Impossible, 
the  driver  said,  in  her  stocking-feet  !  Why,  it 
was  miles  !  Nevertheless  she  would  walk,  she  re- 
torted, and  be  there  as  soon  as  he  was,  and  save 
precious,  priceless  time,  instead  of  waiting  here 
in  idle  suspense.  And  she  did  walk,  with  the 
help  of  a  stick,  and  of  her  driver's  arm  also  for 
the  last  mile  or  two.  Her  silk  stockings  were  soon 
in  shreds,  her  tender  feet  bruised  and  bleeding  ; 
but  with  set  face,  pale  and  resolute,  jacketless, 
hatless,  her  dark  hair,  which  had  been  washed 
down  by  the  water,  twisted  up  anyhow,  her  brows 
contracted  with  pain,  she  persevered,  and  did  the 
distance  without  flinching. 

It  was  after  dark  when  they  arrived  at  Pontor- 
Bon.  Mr.  Lawrence  Soames  had  changed  horses 
there,  and  passed  through  hours  before.  He  said 
he  was  in  a  devil  of  a  hurry.  His  driver  had  told 
the  people  at  the  inn  of  the  accident  that  must 
have  happened.  Mr.  Soames  would  not  let  him 
turn  back  to  render  assistance.  He  said  it  was  a 
providential  arrangement.  The  tide  came  up 
and  frightened  the  driver,  the  driver  shouted  and 


150  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

frightened  the  horses,  the  horses  ran  away  and 
saved  time  at  a  gallop,  which  would  just  enable  him 
to  catch  his  train  at  Dol.  To  have  turned  back 
then  would  have  been  flying  in  the  face  of  Prov- 
idence. And  as  to  the  young  lady  seen  in  the 
other  carriage — why,  whom  the  gods  love  die 
young,  and  she  was  doubtless  happy  in  heaven  by 
this  time. 

All  this  was  told  to  Gertrude  by  the  good  wo- 
man of  the  little  inn,  who  was  bathing  Gertrude's 
feet  and  mourning  over  them  while  the  carriage 
was  being  got  ready. 

There  were  several  young  and  comely  Xorman 
women  at  the  inn,  and  they  completed  Gertrude's 
costume  in  a  way  which  was  certainly  most  be- 
coming to  her.  She  was  wearing  a  dark-blue 
serge  dress,  and  they  rolled  her  dark  hair  up  under 
one  of  their  high  white  caps,  pinned  a  whitb 
linen  kerchief  over  her  shoulders,  and  got  her 
some  new  white  cotton  stockings  and  a  pair  of 
strong  leather  shoes — sabots,  of  course,  were  out 
of  the  question.  In  this  dress  she  looked  charm- 
ing, and  all  these  kindly  women  kissed  her,  and 
told  her  so,  and  would  hardly  be  persuaded  to  ac- 
cept even  a  trifle  for  their  property  and  their 
trouble.  It  seemed  to  be  just  a  pure  pleasure  to 
them  to  comfort  her  and  do  what  they  could  for 
her.  They  would  have  neither  money  nor  thanks, 
if  they  could  help  it,  to  rob  them  of  it,  and  make 
it  a  business.  But  there  was  very  little  time  lost 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  151 

here.  As  quickly  as  possible  a  carriage  was 
brought,  and  Gertrude,  much  refreshed  by  kind 
attentions,  strong  coffee,  eggs,  and  hot  bread,  was 
driven  off  by  a  strange  man  this  time,  but  with 
her  old  driver  on  the  box  by  way  of  escort. 


152  S1NGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

LOLLING  back  in  the  carriage,  tired  to  death, 
her  feet  like  burning  coals,  her  heart  aching  and 
anxious,  Gertrude  was  utterly  unconscious  of  any 
incongruity  between  her  fine-lady  attitude  and 
her  apparent  position,  as  indicated  by  her  Nor- 
mandy peasant's  dress.  But  the  people  in  the 
cottages,  whose  lights  fell  on  her  as  the  vehicle  lum- 
bered past,  perceived  it,  and  many  made  comments 
which  wore  neither  kind  nor  polite. 

They  drove  at  once  to  the  station  at  Dol,  and 
there  she  obtained  a  satisfactory  explanation  of 
her  husband's  sudden  flight.  It  seemed  he  had 
been  a  day  out  in  his  reckoning,  had  accidentally 
discovered  the  fact,  and  had  been  obliged  to  hasten 
back  to  St.  Malo  in  order  to  get  to  Southampton 
in  time  for  the  mail-steamer,  on  which  he  had 
taken  his  passage  for  the  East.  One  thing  about 
this  piece  of  news  struck  Gertrude  hopefully. 
There  had  certainly  been  much  method  in  her 
husband's  madness  so  far.  He  had  carried  out 
his  expressed  intention  with  regard  to  this  scam- 
per ;  and  it  was  therefore  to  be  presumed  that,  if 
he  did  not  come  to  his  senses,  he  would  travel  on 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  153 

ander  the  same  delusion  to  San  Francisco.  She 
*iad  heard  from  Miss  Somers  that  Lord  War  tie- 
bury  had  brought  his  yacht  round  to  Southamp- 
ton, and  was  awaiting  events  there.  Accordingly, 
on  arriving  at  St.  Malo,  Gertrude  ventured  to 
telegraph  to  him-.  She  told  him  her  husband  had 
crossed  over  by  that  day's  boat,  implored  him  to 
meet  it,  to  secure  Leslie,  and  prevent  the  San 
Francisco  project  at  all  hazards.  After  which 
she  went  over  to  Dinard,  and  was  hospitably  en- 
tertained and  cared  for  by  the  good  Filippos  at  the 
H6tel  des  Bains.  It  was  late  next  evening  when 
she  found  herself  on  board  the  steamer  bound  for 
Southampton.  A  very  awkward  and  uncomfort- 
able thing  for  her  had  happened  in  the  mean  time. 
Before  she  took  her  ticket  it  occurred  to  her  to 
count  her  money,  when  she  found  to  her  conster- 
nation that  she  had  not  enough  by  some  shillings. 
"What  am  I  to  do  ?"  she  ejaculated. 

"  Can  I  be  of  any  use  ? — can  I  help  you  ?"  a 
pleasant  voice  immediately  responded,  stammering 
diffidently.  She  looked  up  and  saw  a  tall,  good- 
looking  young  fellow  of  about  her  own  age,  who 
met  her  eyes  frankly  but  apologetically,  as  if  half 
deprecating  the.  liberty  he  had  taken.  Gertrude 
liked  him  at  a  glance,  and  her  womanly  instinct 
prompted  her  to  set  him  at  his  ease  at  once. 

"  I  am  in  an  awkward  dilemma,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,"  she  said  ;  "  1  never  thought  of  counting 
the  money  in  my  purse  before  I  came  on  board, 


154  SINGULA RL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

and  now  I  find  I  have  not  nearly  enough  to  pay 
for  my  ticket.  But  see,  I  have  plenty  of  jewelry. 
Do  you  think  I  might  offer  them  that  in  proof  of 
my  honesty  till  I  get  to  Southampton  ?  I  have 
friends  there  who  will  meet  me.  And  I  must 
cross  to-night.  It  is  most  important." 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  answered.  "I  am  sure  there 
will  be  no  difficulty  about  it.  But,  if  you  will 
allow  rne,  I  will  go  and  arrange  it  for  you.  Never 
mind  the  jewels  ;  I  can  explain." 

He  returned  with  a  ticket,  and  then  naturally 
they  began  to  chat. 

"  I  am  on  my  way  back  to  Sandhurst,"  he  told 
her. 

"Oh,  are  you?"  she  answered.  "I  have  a 
brother  there — a  cadet. " 

"  In  which  Division  ?  "  he  wanted  to  know. 

"I  know  nothing  of  Divisions,"  she  rejoined, 
smiling  ;  "  but  his  name  is  Graham  Wendell." 

"  Why,  Wendell  is  my  particular  chum  1  "  the 
young  man  exclaimed. 

"Then  your  name  must  be  Norton,"  Gertrude 
answered. 

"  Yes,"  he  said;  "  I  knew  Wendell  had  some  sis- 
ters  "  but  he  did  not  like  to  ask  her  which  she 

was,  and  Gertrude  never  thought  of  telling  him. 

"  How  singular  that  we  should  meet  here  ! "  she 
said. 

"  How  very  jolly  !  "  he  answered,  boyishly. 

It  was  a  lovely  night — soft,  warm,  and  calm- 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  155 

The  moon  was  at  the  full.  It  made  a  great  path 
of  light  over  the  smooth  water.  There  was  no 
wind.  The  ladies'  cabin  was  close  and  disagree- 
able, and  Gertrude,  after  a  peep  at  it,  had  re- 
turned to  the  deck,  determined  to  stay  np  as  long 
as  she  could.  Young  Norton  found  her  a  chair, 
and  wrapped  a  rug  round  her,  and  then  they  sat  and 
resumed  their  talk.  He  interested  her  with  anec- 
dotes of  Sandhurst  life,  made  her  laugh  at  Sand- 
hurst jokes,  and  beguiled  the  time  for  her  until 
the  sun  rose,  and  they  entered  Southampton 
Water.  The  night  had  passed,  and  she  had  barely 
time  to  go  below  and  make  ready  for  the  shore  before 
they  were  in.  When  she  returned  to  the  deck,  she 
found  that  a  number  of  people  had  come  on  board, 
but  no  one  she  knew  was  among  them.  One  can- 
not think  of  everything,  and  she  remembered  now 
she  had  not  told  them  when  to  expect  her.  True, 
they  might  have  known  she  would  cross  immedi- 
ately, but  at  the  same  time  they  might  not  have 
thought  of  it.  She  had  recognized  Lord  Wartle- 
bury's  yacht  anchored  in  the  offing  as  they  steamed 
in,  and  told  young  Norton  she  hoped  her  husband 
was  on  board  it,  and  now,  when  none  of  her  friends 
appeared,  she  consulted  him  again  about  what  she 
should  do.  Before  he  had  time  to  make  a  sug- 
gestion, a  policeman  and  another  man — probably  a 
detective  in  plain  clothes — came  up  to  them,  stared 
hard  at  them,  took  out  a  written  paper.  *»£  be* 
gan  to  con  it  together 


156  SlNGULARL  Y  DEL  UDE&* 

"  Rather  above  the  middle  height,"  the  police- 
man read  aloud,  glancing  at  Gertrude.  "  Dark 
hair,  plenty  of  it,  pale  face,  dark  eyes,  slight 
figure,  small  hands  and  feet,  dark-blue  serge  dress, 
felt  hat  to  match,  long  gloves.  I  guess  that's  the 
ticket." 

"Yes,  it's  pretty  near,"  the  other  said,  "con- 
sidering that  it's  friends  as  drew  it  up.  And  tak- 
ing the  two  together,  I  guess  we're  on  the  right 
track.  What  do  they  say  about  him  ?  Just  read 
it  again/* 

"  Stands  about  six  feet  in  hisbopts,"  the  police- 
man read.  "  Gentlemanly  appearence,  well-cut 
clothes,  suit  of  small  check,  gray  dust-coat, 
ring  on  little  finger,  probably  spats  on  boots. 
Brown  hair,  sunburnt  face,  blue  eyes,  slight 
mustache — there's  no  mistaking  him,  my  boy  ! " 

"  I  must  move  away  from  here,"  Gertrude  said, 
"  these  men  stare  so  rudely." 

But  when  they  attempted  to  do  so  both  men 
approached  ;  the  policeman  laid  his  hand  author- 
itatively on  Gertrude's  shoulder,  and  the  detective 
laid  hold  of  young  Norton. 

"  What  the  deuce "  the  latter  was  begin- 
ning when  the  detective'interrupted  him. 

"  You'd  better  come  quietly,  my  fine  fellow," 
he  said,  "  and  not  make  a  bother.  It  won't  be  no 
use  neither  if  you  do,  for  we've  half  a  dozen  men 
out  there  on  the  quay  ready  to  help  us." 

"But  what  on  earth  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?" 


StNGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  \  5 7 

"  It  means/'  drawing  out  a  paper,  "  that  this 
here  is  a  warrant  for  the  arrest  of  Mr.  Samuel 
Davidson,  clerk,  and  the  young  woman  yonder, 
Mrs.  Georgina  Bannister,  for  that  they  did  elope 
together  carrying  off  certain  properties." 

He  stopped  here  and  stared,  for  both  the  young 
people  had  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Why,"  Gertrude  exclaimed,  "  this  gentleman 
is  a  perfect  stranger  to  me.  I  never  saw  him  be- 
fore last  night." 

"He  took  your  ticket  for  you  all  the  same, 
ma'am,  in  the  assumed  name  of  Norton,  and 
paid  for  it,  as  I've  just  been  informed  on  good 
authority." 

"You  -did  not  pay  for  my  ticket,  did  you  ?  " 
Gertrude  exclaimed.  "I  thought  you  had  ar- 
ranged  " 

"  I  can  easily  explain  that,"  the  young  man 

hastily  interposed.  "  And  besides ''  he  broke 

off.  "  Oh,  here,  now,  this  is  too  much  of  a  good 
thing.  -.  Here  is  my  card.  You  will  find  my  lug- 
gage on  board.  I  am  escorting  this  lady." 

"  And  we  shall  find  the  lady's  luggage  on  board 
too,  I  suppose,"  the  detective  said,  with  a  signifi- 
cant look  at  the  policeman.  "Just  be  good 
enough  to  give  us  the  lady's  name." 

"  Miss  Wendell,"  Norton  said. 

"Mrs.  Leslie  Somers,"  Gertrude  corrected. 

The  policeman  chuckled.  "  There  is  some- 
thing we  call  a  discrepancy,  young  man,"  he  said, 


158  SINGULAR L  Y  DEL UDED. 

"  in  these  here  statements.  So  just  you  come  off 
with  us  to  the  station  quietly.  It  will  be  best  for 
you  in  the  long  run." 

"  Take  your  hand  off  that  lady's  shoulder," 
Norton  exclaimed,  losing  his  temper  at  the  indig- 
nity that  was  being  put  upon  Gertrude,  "or  I'll 
knock  you  down." 

"Oh,  you  will,  will  you/'  the  man  said  inso- 
lently, making  a  signal  as  he  spoke,  and  Norton 
instantly  found  himself  pinioned. 

"  Keep  the  prisoners  apart,"  the  detective  or- 
dered, and  they  were  marched  off  the  steamer 
through  a  gazing  crowd,  and  put  into  two  sepa- 
rate cabs. 

"  What's  up,  governor  ?"  a  man  asked. 

"  Elopement  with  robbery.  Eeg'ler  heartless 
case,"  said  the  officer.  "  He's  a  deep  'un,  too. 
Had  provided  himself  with  a  gent's  card,  and  got 
the  initials  painted  on  his  luggage  ! " 

Two  policemen,  great  uncouth  coarse  fellows, 
got  into  the  cab  with  Gertrude,  and  sat  opposite 
to  her.  Their  clothing  reeked  with  the  damp, 
and  the  blacking  on  their  boots  smelt  strong. 
Altogether  their  propinquity  was  revolting  to  her, 
and  she  remained  drawn  back  as  far  as  the  nar- 
row space  permitted,  her  eyes  flashing,  her  face 
crimson  with  indignation. 

"  So  you  weren't  satisfied  with  yer  old  man,'* 
one  of  them  began,  with  offensive  familiarity. 
"Well,  the  young  spark's  more  in  yer  line,  I 


SING ULA RL  Y  DEL  UDED.  159 

allow,  so  far  as  suitability  goes.  But  whatever  did 
you  go  and  rob  the  old  boy  for  ?  It'll  be  a  pity 
to  see  a  smart  'un  like  you  sent  off  for  six  months, 
won't  it,  James  ?  " 

"  Aye/'  the  other  man  rejoined.  "  And  she  is 
a  smart  'un,  too.  I  wouldn't  mind  runnin'  away 
with  you  myself,  my  dear,  if  you'll  have  me  when 
you  come  out." 

Gertrude  fixed  her  steady  eyes  first  on  one  and 
then  on  the  other  as  they  spoke,  and  each  in  turn 
lost  confidence,  and  then  subsided  abashed. 

"  You  are  very  stupid  men,"  she  said.  "  You 
ought  to  know  the  difference  between  a  lady  and 
the  sort  of  person  you  pretend  to  think  I  am. 
You  must  know  my  husband's  name  well  enough. 
I  am  Mrs.  Leslie  Somers." 

"  Oh,  you  are  ! "  jeered  one  of  the  men,  with  a 
chuckle.  "  We'll  believe  that,  Brown,  won't  we  ? 
Mrs.  Leslie  Somers  'ud  be  running  about  the 
Continent  with  a  young  fellow  as  calls  himself  a 
Sandhurst  cadet,  and  doesn't  know  her  name 
though  he  says  he's  escortin'  of  her.  Courtin'  of 
her's  what  he  meant,  he  !  he  !  I  tell  you,  young 
woman,  Mrs.  Leslie  Somerses  don't  appear  in  publio 
with  young  fellows  as  don't  even  know  their  names, 
nor  without  lady's-maids  neither.  If  you  could 
hold  your  tongue  you  might  look  like  a  Mrs.  Leslie 
Somers,  but  when  you  open  your  mouth  you  be- 
tray yourself.  So  you'd  better  play  it  lower  dow» 
a  precious  sight." 


1 60  SING ULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

"  Let's  see  your  visitin'  card/*  the  other  one 
interposed.  He  was  not  so  confident  as  he  had 
been. 

Gertrude,  unfortunately,  had  no  card  in  her 
pocket.  "  But  see,"  she  said,  "  my  monogram 
is  on  my  purse,  and  here  again  on  my  handker- 
chief." The  monogram  was  G.  B.  S.,  her  second 
name  being  Beatrice.  The  policeman,  however, 
chose  to  consider  that  the  B.  stood  for  Bannister, 
and  these  proofs  of  her  identity  served  only  to 
make  assurance  doubly  sure.  They  took  posses- 
sion of  the  dainty  trifles,  keeping  them  doubtless 
by  way  of  pieces  de  conviction,  and  became  more 
insolent  if  possible  than  they  had  been. 

On  arriving  at  the  station  Gertrude  had  to  sub- 
mit to  the  indignity  of  being  searched.  It  was  in 
vain  that  she  demanded  telegraph  forms.  The 
police  would  do  nothing  without  money,  and  they 
had  taken  her  purse.  She  implored  them  to  let 
her  speak  with  Mr.  Norton,  but  they  only  jeered 
at  her,  and  made  brutal  suggestions  about  lock- 
ing him  up  with  her.  She  knew,  of  course,  that 
the  mistake  would  be  found  out  sooner  or  later  ; 
but  meanwhile  what  precious  time  was  being  lost! 
The  thought  made  her  furious,  and  she  began  to 
rage  ;  but  she  was  locked  up  alone  by  this  time, 
in  a  damp  closet  of  a  place,  a  mere  passage-like 
slip  between  two  walls,  and  if  any  heard  her  they 
did  not  heed.  Hour  after  hour  passed,  and  her 
mood  changed  perpetually,  but  it  was  never  a 


SfJVG ULARLY  DEL UDED.  \ 6 1 

change  for  the  better.  Her  utter  helplessness 
dazed  her  at  first.  Then  she  thought  she  could 
escape  if  she  tried — prisoners  did  escape  ;  so  she 
rattled  at  the  door,  felt  the  walls  to  gauge  their 
thickness,  and  tried  to  climb  up  to  the  window. 
This  dirtied  her  hands,  and  she  felt  for  her  hand- 
kerchief. For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  found 
herself  deprived  of  that  necessary  article,  and  ab- 
surdly enough  this  trifle  was  the  first  thing  that 
brought  tears  to  her  eyes — tears  of  bitter  morti- 
fication, the  worst  she  had  ever  shed.  She  had 
a  soft  Indian  muslin  kerchief  round  her  neck, 
edged  with  lace,  and  this  she  turned  into  a  pocket- 
handkerchief  for  the  time  being.  Then  she  sat 
down  and  resolved  to  be  patient.  She  was  quite 
exhausted,  and  she  must  remember  the  cruel  need 
there  was  for  all  her  strength.  This  changed  the 
direction  of  her  thoughts,  and  she  ceased  to  suffer 
from  that  worst  and  most  wearing  form  of  worry 
— worry  on  one's  own  account — and  began  to  think 
about  her  husband.  Very  mournful  thoughts 
they  were.  She  could  not  help  contrasting  the 
present  with  the  past — the  happy,  happy  past, 
when  such  love  and  care  had  been  lavished  upon 
her,  when  it  seemed  that  even  a  rude  glance  had 
never  been  allowed  to  fall  on  her.  What  would 
Leslie  have  said  if  he  had  seen  her  that  morning, 
subject  to  every  kind  of  insult,  or  could  he  see 
her  now,  cold,  faint  for  want  of  food,  devoured  by 
anxiety,  a  prisoner  and  alone  ?  Why,  it  would 


162  S1NGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

be  enough  to  drive  him  inad  !  "  Mad,  mad/'  she 
repeated  to  herself  ;  and  then  she  \rondered  how 
people  felt  when  they  were  going  mad,  because 
she  feared  if  they  left  her  there  much  longer  she 
would  go  mad  herself. 

For  six  mortal  hours  she  was  locked  up  in  that 
wretched  place.  The  tramp  of  feet  up  and  down 
the  passage  was  almost  continual,  and  at  first  she 
thought  that  every  one  who  passed  her  door  was 
coming  to  release  her.  Hence  numberless  disap- 
pointments, till  at  last  she  ceased  to  hope  and  be- 
came apathetic,  sitting  there  listlessly  with  her 
head  in  her  hand,  not  thinking,  hardly  conscious 
of  anything  but  a  great  overpowering,  crushing 
sense  «)f.  misery. 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  1 63 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

AT  last,  however,  just  when  she  was  thinking  of 
it  least,  and  all  in  a  moment,  as  it  seemed  to 
poor  Gertrude,  the  angels  descended  and  unlocked 
the  door  of  her  prison.  It  was  flung  wide  open 
suddenly,  and  she  beheld  quite  a  little  crowd  of 
people,  all  with  friendly,  familiar  faces,  except 
her  late  enemies,  the  police,  who  stood  "  to 
attention  "  in  the  background,  looking  sullen  and 
abashed.  Lord  Wartlebury  was  there,  Dr.  Man- 
gell,  Mr.  Norton,  and,  greatest  joy  of  all  for  Ger- 
trude at  the  moment,  Miss  Somers.  The  ladies 
rushed  into  each  other's  arms. 

"  0  my  poor  dear  Gertrude  ! "  Miss  Somers 
exclaimed,  becoming  incoherent  from  excess  of 
feeling,  and  a  strong  desire  to  say  several  things 
at  once.  "  I  have  only  just  arrived.  What  you 
must  have  suffered.  Lord  "Wartlebury  wrote  to 
me  last  night.  He  is  safe  on  board  the  yacht." 

"  Is  my  husband  safe  ?  "  Gertrude  cried. 

"  Yes,  dear,"  Miss  Somers  answered,  with  a 
glad  little  sob. 

Then  Gertrude  turned  to  wring  Lord  Wartle- 
bury's  hand,  and  Dr.  ManselPs,  and  Mr.  Norton's. 
She  felt  inclined  to  embrace  them  all. 


164  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

"It  is  to  this  young  gentleman's  determination 
and  promptitude  that  you  owe  your  release,"  Lord 
Wartlebury  explained,  alluding  to  Mr.  Norton. 
Then  turning  haughtily  to  the  police,  he  added  : 
"  A  most  unjustifiable  mistake.  And  I  hear  you 
have  been  treated  with  marked  discourtesy/'  to 
Gertrude.  "  The  thing  must  be  represented. 
And  if  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  sir,  in  the 
future  " — to  Mr.  Norton — "  rely  on  me." 

After  going  through  some  formalities  at  the 
police  station,  they  drove  to  the  nearest  hotel, 
where  dinner  had  been  ordered.  Mr.  Norton  had 
been  obliged  to  rejoin  at  Sandhurst  immediately, 
and  accordingly  took  his  leave  as  soon  as  they 
were  released ;  and  then  Gertrude  was  told  of  all 
that  had  occurred  since  the  arrival  of  her  telegram 
on  the  previous  day. 

The  difficulty  had  been  how  to  secure  Leslie 
Somers,  and  make  him  content  to  stay  with  his 
friends  instead  of  wandering  off  to  San  Francisco, 
or  wherever  else  his  disordered  mind  might  sug- 
gest. Dr.  Mansell  proposed  that  they  should 
humor  his  delusion,  call  him  Mr.  Lawrence 
Soames,  treat  him  as  an  English  official  with  a 
recognized  position,  and  ask  him  to  lunch  on 
board  the  yacht  with  a  view  to  giving  Lord  War- 
tlebury some  information  about  San  Francisco. 
This  would  give  them  an  opportunity  of  judging 
exactly  what  state  his  mind  was  in,  and  that,  they 
hoped,  without  alarming  or  irritating  him  in  any 


SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED.  16$ 

way.  Then,  having  once  got  him  on  board  the 
yacht,  they  were  determined  not  to  let  him  go, 
though  how  to  keep  him  without  his  good  will 
and  consent  was  at  first  a  puzzling  question.  The 
thing  was  to  obtain  his  consent.  Lord  Wartle- 
bury  was  going  to  ask  him  for  information  about 
San  Francisco.  Why  should  Lord  Wartlebury 
want  this  information  particularly  ?  He  must 
give  a  reason.  An  answer  at  once  occurred  to 
them.  The  yacht  was  built  for  long  voyages. 
Lord  Wartlebury  could  say  that  he  intended  to  go 
to  San  Francisco  ;  he  could  take  a  sudden  fancy 
to  Mr.  Lawrence  Soames,  beg  him  to  bring  his 
luggage  on  board,  show  him  the  yacht  would  be 
there  as  soon  as  the  mail-steamer,  and  invite  him 
to  make  one  of  his  party  for  the  voyage.  The 
advantages  of  such  an  arrangement  must  be  ob- 
vious to  the  poor  fellow,  they  thought,  and  they 
therefore  anticipated  no  trouble  in  the  way  of  a  re- 
fusal. Lord  Wartlebury  further  proposed  to  ask 
Gertrude  and  Miss  Somers  to  accompany  them ; 
and  another  advantage  of  the  arrangement  seemed 
to  be  the  probability  of  a  few  weeks'  cruise  under 
such  favorable  auspices  being  all  that  was  neces- 
sary to  restore  the  patient  to  his  right  mind. 
This  plan  was  carried  out  to  the  letter.  Dr. 
Mansell  met  the  soi-disant  Lawrence  Soames  on 
the  arrival  of  the  St.  Malo  boat,  with  Lord  War- 
tlebury's  compliments,  and  the  invitation  to  lunch 
and  impart  information,  which  was  at  once  ac- 


1 66  SING ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

cepted.  The  further  information  to  become  one 
of  the  party  was  skilfully  led  up  to  in  the  course 
of  conversation,  and  also  accepted  ;  and  then 
Lord  "Wartlebury  had  sent  for  Miss  Somers,  who 
was  awaiting  Gertrude's  arrival  to  go  on  board 
the  yacht,  when  Mr.  Norton,  to  whom  Lord  War- 
tlebury had  been  mentioned  as  a  friend  by  Ger- 
trude, sent  a  note  to  the  latter,  explaining  the 
plight  the  lady  was  in,  and  begging  for  his  imme- 
diate assistance. 

It  was  Lord  Wartlebury  himself  who  gave  Ger- 
trude all  this  information,  with  many  details  be- 
sides, which  he  thought  it  right  she  should  hear. 
She  listened  in  almost  perfect  silence,  commenting 
once  or  twice,  or  uttering  an  ejaculation,  but 
never  asking  a  question  till  Lord  Wartlebury 
stopped.  Then  she  faltered  : 

"  Has  my  husband  said  nothing  ?  Did  he  never 
mention  me  ?  " 

"  No/'  Dr.  Mansell  told  her.  "  His  memory  is 
a  blank.  He  has  no  recollection  whatever  of  wife 
or  child,  or  home  or  friends.  In  fact,  he  declared 
he  expected  no  letters,  because  he  had  no  one  to 
write  to  him.  He  said  he  believed  he  was  a  found- 
ling, a  self-made  man  at  all  events,  without  a  re- 
lation that  he  knew  of  in  the  world.  Lord  War- 
tlebury mentioned  Mrs.  Leslie  Somers,  and  said 
he  hoped  you  would  make  one  of  the  party  on 
board  the  Star.  When  he  heard  the  name  he 
knitted  his  brows  in  a  puzzled  sort  of  way,  as  if 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED,  167 

trying  to  recall  something,  and  repeated  '  Leslie 
Somers'  several  times.  I  asked  him  if  he  knew 
Leslie  Somers,  and  he  said  he  was  sure  he  knew 
something  about  him,  the  name  was  so  familiar, 
but  he  could  not  for  the  life  of  him  remember 
what." 

Gertrude  sighed.  "  How  am  I  to  meet  him  ?  " 
she  said. 

Lord  Wartlebury  and  Dr.  Mansell  exchanged 
significant  glances,  and  each  waited  for  the  other 
to  speak. 

"We  have  been  thinking,"  Lord  Wartlebury 
began  at  last  with  some  hesitation,  "  that  perhaps 
you  had  better  not  see  him — just  yet,  you  know — 
not  until  we  have  got  well  ou  t  to  sea  at  least.  There 
is  plenty  of  room  on  board  the  Star ;  you  need 
not  meet  until  it  is  desirable.  And — eh — the  fact 
is,  your  husband  requires  to  be  kept  quiet  for  a 
little." 

Gertrude  understood  that  there  was  something 
behind  this  which  they  were  anxious  to  spare  her 
the  pain  of  knowing,  and  delicately  forbore  to  ask. 
It  had  seemed  all  along  that  the  separation  was  the 
worst  thing  she  could  have  to  bear  ;  but  now  her 
heart  sickened  at  the  prospect  of  being  so  near  her 
husband,  and  perhaps  of  having  him  look  at  her  day 
after  day  with  strange  eyes,  not  recognizing  her, 
and  it  might  be  with  openly  expressed  aversion  to 
her  presence.  It  was  a  common  thing  for  mad 
people  to  hate  those  whom,  in  their  senses,  they 


168  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

had  loved  best.  Oh,  she  thought,  she  could  bear 
anything  but  that.  Dr.  Mansell  left  them  direct- 
ly after  dinner  to  go  on  board  the  yacht,  leaving 
Lord  Wartlebury  to  follow  later  with  the  ladies. 

It  was  beginning  to  be  dusk  when  they  got  on 
board.  Gertrude  and  Miss  Somers  were  shown 
at  once  to  their  state-rooms,  which  opened  into  a 
small  saloon  knowo  as  the  boudoir.  It  was  in- 
tended for  the  use  of  any  ladies  who  might  be  on 
board,  a  safe  retreat  in  case  of  bad  weather,  and 
there  was  an  experienced  stewardess  always  in  at- 
tendance. But  the  yacht  was  perfect  in  all  its 
arrangements,  luxuriously  fitted  throughout,  a 
floating  palace,  in  fact,  with  room  enough  for  a 
hundred  guests,  and  a  host  of  retainers. 

Steam  was  up  when  they  arrived,  rushing  and 
roaring  through  the  funnels ;  there  was  a  great 
bustle  of  preparation  on  deck,  and  almost  before 
they  had  time  to  settle  themselves  in  their  new 
quarters,  the  anchor  was  up  and  they  were  off. 

On  finding  the  little  saloon  brilliantly  lighted 
by  electricity,  Miss  Somers  got  out  a  piece  of 
work,  and  busied  herself  with  it  placidly.  Ger- 
trude felt  envious  as  she  watched  her.  If  she 
could  only  occupy  herself  in  some  such  way,  she 
thought,  and  await  the  issue  of  events  calmly,  how 
much  better  it  would  be  for  her  !  But  she  seemed 
to  have  got  past  all  that.  She  could  not  even  sit 
still  for  long,  but  got  up  and  paced  about,  pre- 
tending to  examine  everything  in  the  cabin,  yet 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  169 

seeing  nothing,  and  ending  by  moving  restlessly 
to  and  fro  without  even  the  pretense  of  an  object. 
Miss  Somers  said  nothing,  but  she  felt  for  the  poor 
girl  deeply,  and  every  now  and  then  raised  her 
kind  eyes  from  her  work  and  watched  her,  feel- 
ing rather  helpless,  because  there  seemed  nothing 
to  be  done  to  relieve  the  tension  of  her  nerves  and 
take  her  out  of  herself. 

"  There  are  four  sides  to  this  cabin/'  Gertrude 
exclaimed  at  last,  stopping  short  in  the  middle  of 
it,  and  looking  round.  "  Do  you  know,  I  think  I 
should  be  better  if  I  knew  on  which  side  he  was." 

The  stewardess  appeared  with  coffee  just  then, 
and  Lord  Wartlebury  sent  a  man-servant  to  beg 
the  ladies'  permission  to  come  and  take  his  with 
them  in  the  boudoir.  Miss  Somers  was  glad  of 
the  diversion  for  Gertrude's  sake,  for  the  old  man's 
influence  evidently  soothed  her,  and  her  good- 
breeding  made  her  control  herself  sufficiently  to 
show  no  sign  of  restlessness  or  dissatisfaction  in 
his  presence.  It  was  a  great  effort,  to  begin  with, 
to  sit  still  and  listen  while  he  talked  ;  but  his 
conversation  was  brilliant  and  varied,  and  in- 
sensibly he  fixed  her  attention  for  a  time,  and 
drew  her  out.  Only  for  a  time,  however  ;  for  by 
and  by  she  lapsed  into  silence,  leaving  Miss  Somers 
to  talk,  and  by  degrees  becoming  quite  absorbed 
by  her  own  painful  reflections.  The  conversation 
between  the  other  two  rippled  on  evenly  without 
a  pause.  The  murmur  of  placid  voices  disturbed 


1 7  O  SING  ULARLY  DEL  UDED. 

her  as  little  as  absolute  silence,  and  was  quite  aa 
monotonous.  The  sound  they  made  was  like  a 
transparent  veil  beneath  which  many  other  sounds 
were  distinctly  perceptible — the  steps  of  the  watch 
on  deck,  an  order  given  occasionally  in  a  hoarse 
voice,  a  snatch  of  song  from  one  of  the  crew,  the 
rush  of  steam  and  muffled  roar  of  the  fires  and 
machinery,  the  swish  of  the  water  against  the 
sides  of  the  yacht  as  it  sped  on  at  nearly  fourteen 
knots  an  hour,  and  above  all  the  thud,  thud  of 
the  screw,  beating  regularly  as  time  itself,  and 
with  just  the  same  effect  of  inevitableness.  Ger- 
trude was  dimly  conscious  of  it  all,  and  of  a  cer- 
tain sense  of  safety  which  was  almost  a  feeling  of 
peace.  Unfortunately,  it  was  only  a  soothing  to 
false  repose,  for  the  shock  of  a  sudden  awakening 
was  upon  her,  before  she  had  at  all  realized  the 
sense  of  relief.  One  moment  it  seemed  as  if  all 
must  come  right,  and  soon  ;  but  the  next  a  shout 
of  laughter— of  coarse,  unhallowed  laughter, 
sounding  at  her  elbow,  as  it  seemed,  and  breaking 
in  upon  the  quiet,  without  the  slightest  warning, 
not  even  that  of  an  approaching  footstep— caused 
her  to  spring  from  her  seat,  and  stand,  with  every 
nerve  quivering,  not  daring  to  turn  round  for 
fear  of  what  might  be  behind. 

"  What  was  it  ?  "  she  asked,  faintly. 

Lord  Wartlebury  went  to  her.  "  It  was  noth- 
ing," he  said,  confusedly.  She  turned  slowly 
round.  There  was  certainly  no  one  there.  "  The 


SING  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  171 

partitions  are  thin  on  board  ship,"  he  explained, 
"and  the  wood  conducts  the  sound,  and — eh — 
exaggerates  it.  It  was  some  one  laughing  in  the 
saloon  ;  voices  coming  from  there  sound  so — 
always." 

She  was  not  attending  to  him,  but  listening 
intently  for  some  repetition  of  the  sound.  Pres- 
ently it  came,  the  same  loud  laugh,  followed  by  loud 
words  which  they  could  not  distinguish  ;  but 
they  felt  by  the  manner  of  them  they  were  coarse. 

Gertrude  pressed  her  hands  to  her  breast  cou- 
rulsively. 

"  So  that  is  my  husband  !  "  she  said,  in  a  strange 
toneless  voice.  "  Oh,  Annie  !  tell  them  not  to 
deceive  me  any  more.  It  is  no  use.  I  know  now 
that  my  happy  days  are  over."  She  threw  herself 
into  a  chair,  leaned  her  head  back  against  the 
cushion,  and  sat  with  pale  set  face  motionless. 
Miss  Somers  seized  her  work,  compressed  her  lips, 
and  toiled  at  it  as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  life  and 
death. 

Lord  Wartlebury  withdrew  immediately.  He 
had  probably  gone  to  stop  the  disturbance,  for  a 
few  minutes  later  the  talk  and  laughter  ceased. 
Then  the  thud,  thud  of  the  machinery  became 
obtrusive,  and  the  lap  of  the  water  and  creak  of 
spar  emphasized  the  silence.  The  moon  rose  and 
shone  down  through  the  open  skylight  :  a  little 
breeze  found  its  way  in  also  fresh  from  the  shore, 
and  sweet  with  the  scent  of  flowers.  The  night 


172  SlttGULARt  Y  DELUDES. 

was  charming,  but  there  was  one  sad  heart  that 
could  not  feel  it  so — could  feel  nothing,  in  fact, 
'but  the  dread  certainty  that  all  charm  for  it  had 
departed  from  all  things  forever. 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  173 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THEY  had  rough  weather  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay, 
storm  and  rain  and  hail.  Miss  Soraers  was  pros- 
trated by  seasickness,  and  Gertrude  had  been 
obliged  to  keep  her  berth  for  days,  suffering,  how- 
ever more  from  languor  and  listlessness,  the  loss  of 
the  desire  to  be  up  and  doing,  than  from  any  bod- 
ily ill.  Dr.  Mansell  was  anxious  about  her,  and 
had  to  insist  at  last  upon  her  being  dressed  and 
made  to  lie  on  a  sofa  in  the  boudoir,  where  she  could 
have  fresh  air,  and  some  small  change  of  scene  to 
rouse  her.  Old  Lord  Wartlebury  came  and  talked 
and  read  to  her,  and  Miss  Somers  crawled  out  of  her 
cabin  and  did  what  she  could.  Gertrude  knew 
they  were  all  very  kind,  and  felt  grateful  ;  and 
because  she  was  grateful,  she  felt  impelled  to  make 
an  effort  to  please  them,  and  therefore  summoned 
some  energy,  and  assumed  an  interest,  though  she 
felt  it  not,  in  what  they  said  and  did. 

So  they  glided  from  the  stormy  Bay  through 
the  narrow  Pillars  of  Hercules  into  the  Medi- 
terranean, which  was  sapphire  blue  and  bright  for 
them.  And  then  it  was  felt  that  some  change 
must  be  made,  for  the  ladies  had  been  prisoners 
below  so  far,  and  it  was  quite  impossible  for  things 


! 74  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

to  go  on  like  this  much  longer.  But  if  they  left 
their  retirement  they  must  meet  the  patient  ; 
and  the  question  was,  What  effect,  good  or  bad, 
would  the  sight  of  them  have  upon  him  ?  Dr. 
Mansell  said  he  seemed  quite  sane  on  all  but  two 
points — hia  delusion  about  the  appointment  at 
San  Francisco,  and  his  utter  oblivion  of  every- 
thing relating  to  his  past  life.  He  suffered  from  a 
perversion  of  tastes  too,  and  a  radical  change  of 
tone,  which  was  also  no  doubt  the  direct  result  of 
the  mental  malady,  and  would  disappear  when  the 
cause  was  removed.  He  had  a  craving  for  drink, 
and  would  never  have  been  sober  could  he  have  got 
the  liquor  ;  and  what  he  liked  best  was  to  gamble 
all  day  long.  He  did  not  care  with  whom  he 
played — the  noble  Earl,  his  host,  the  steward,  or 
the  stoker,  it  was  all  one  to  him,  so  that  they 
played  and  staked  something — anything.  He  was 
indifferent  about  the  value  of  the  article,  and  had 
triumphantly  exhibited  a  set  of  bone  buttons  one 
day  won  from  off  the  said  stoker's  greasy  blouse  at 
a  game  of  toss-up,  played  standing  in  the  stoke- 
hole in  the  intervals  of  mending  the  fires  ;  and  he 
was  prouder  of  that  victory  than  of  any,  because, 
he  said,  the  stoker  was  a  dodgy  chap,  and  a  man 
had  to  be  all  there  to  beat  him. 

This  was  not  the  sort  of  thing  that  Mr.  Leslie 
Somers,  in  his  right  mind,  one  of  the  ablest  and 
most  polished  ornaments  of  the  bar,  would  have 
done  and  boasted  about  j  and  Lord  Wartlebury  was 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  175 

anxious,  if  possible,  to  spare  Gertrude  all  knowl- 
edge of  the  change  in  him  in  this  respect.  It  was 
hardly  possible,  however,  unless  the  patient  could 
be  persuaded  to  exercise  some  self-control.  He 
knew  that  there  were  ladies  on  board  the  yacht, 
and  had  made  sundry  inquiries  regarding  their  age 
and  social  status  riot  at  all  complimentary  to  Lord 
Wartlebury's  character.  It  was  therefore  deemed 
advisable  to  give  him  a  hint  about  his  conduct,  and 
warn  him  to  be  guarded  in  his  language  before 
them  ;  and  Dr.  Mansell  thought,  while  they  were 
speaking  of  ladies,  they  might  sound  him  again 
on  the  subject  of  his  wife,  and  make  an  effort  to 
recall  all  that  he  had  forgotten  to  his  mind.  This 
done,  the  rest  would  be  easy,  for  the  delusion 
about  Lawrence  Soames  must  disappear  before  the 
recognition  of  his  own  identity. 

Gertrude  heard  their  plan,  and  felt  almost  hope- 
ful about  it,  but  expressed  a  wish  to  remain  con- 
cealed till  she  knew  the  result.  The  confinement 
was  doing  her  harm,  however,  and  it  was  therefore 
arranged  that  she  and  Miss  Somers  should  go  on 
deck  when  Leslie  was  at  dinner,  and  have  their 
own  dinner  at  a  different  hour,  and  also  in  the 
morning  before  he  was  up.  This  gave  them  plenty 
of  time,  for.  the  poor  fellow  could  hardly  be  per- 
suaded to  leave  the  table  at  night,  nor  his  bed  in 
the  morning.  During  this  time  Gertrude  did  not 
catch  even  a  glimpse  of  him,  but  Miss  Somers 
saw  him  once  sitting  with  his  back  to  her  play- 


176  SINGULAR!.  Y  DEL UDED. 

ing  cards,  without  necktie  or  collar,  his  ruddy 
brown  hair  all  tossed,  and  a  huge  glass  of  brandy- 
and-soda  beside  him.  It  was  after  one  of  these 
games,  when,  having  won  it,  he  was  in  a  partic- 
ularly good  humor,  that  Lord  Wartlebury — of 
whom  he  seemed  to  stand  in  awe — approached 
the  delicate  subject  upon  which  it  was  so  neces- 
sary to  fix  his  attention,  by  beginning  to  discuss 
different  phases  of  mental  aberration  with  Dr. 
Mansell.  The  soi-disant  Mr.  Soames  was  interest- 
ed at  once.  He  knew  nothing  about  the  sub- 
ject and  seemed  fascinated,  listening  and  asking 
questions  with  the  eagerness  of  an  intelligent 
schoolboy.  Had  Dr.  Mansell  met  him  casually 
he  would  have  set  him  down  as  an  uncultured 
man  of  low  tastes,  with  a  good  brain  much  weak- 
ened by  dissipation  and  drink.  A  certain  shrewd- 
ness was  all  that  remained  of  the  great  insight 
by  which  he  had  made  his  name.  He  confessed 
gross  sins  and  ignorances  without  shame  or  re- 
serve, but  seemed  to  know  the  possibility  and  rec- 
ognize the  advantages  of  leading  a  better  life ; 
he  had  even  times  of  longing  for  what  might 
have  been,  had  he  conducted  himself  otherwise. 
He  was  weak,  however,  and  sensual,  caring  for 
nothing  really  but  constant  excitement,  and  only 
remorseful  when  this  was  not  to  be  obtained,  and 
he  became  subject  to  the  depression  consequent 
upon  its  absence.  Lord  Wartlebury  pitied  the 
poor  man  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart.  He  knew 


SING ULARL  Y  DJSL tJDED.  177 

him  well  by  reputation,  and  thought  it  sad  to  see 
so  fine  an  intellect  reduced  to  such  a  level  by 
disease.  He  considered  him  a  wreck,  and  never 
forgot  to  make  due  allowance  for  any  ravage, 
caused  by  the  storm,  that  might  appear.  But 
Dr.  Mansell  was  not  so  charitable.  He  did  not 
say  much  about  it,  but  he  felt  in  his  own  heart 
that  he  never  could  have  liked  the  fellow  under 
any  circumstances.  Yet  he  did  what  he  could 
for  him,  nevertheless,  and  on  this  evening  in  par- 
ticular he  worked  with  rare  tact,  first  fixing  Mr. 
Soames'  mind  on  the  subject  of  delusions  gener- 
ally, then  gradually  showing  how  any  one  of  the 
three  then  present  might  at  that  moment  be  la- 
boring under  a  delusion  quite  patent  to  the  other 
two,  but  never  suspected  by  himself,  and  finally 
making  the  application  personal  by  remarking 
in  a  casual  way  :  "  I  suppose,  though,  nothing 
would  make  you  believe  that  you  are  traveling 
under  a  delusion,  Mr.  Soames  ? "  "I  don't 
know,"  he  answered,  ruffling  his  hair  up  from 
behind,  and  forcing  a  laugh,  though  it  was  easy 
to  see  that  the  subject  affected  him  seriously  for 
some  reason  or  other.  He  shook  the  impression 
off,  however,  and  asked  in  a  bantering  tone, 
"  What  form  of  delusion  should  you  say  I  was 
suffering  from,  doctor?"  "Well,"  Dr.  Mansell 
answered,  "  I  should  say  that  you  were  under  the 
delusion  that  you  were  all  alone  in  the  world  with 
no  one  to  care  for  you,  while  all  the  time  you  are 


1 78  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

bound  by  the  nearest  and  dearest  tie  a  man  can 
have.  I  should  say  that  you  were  attacked  by 
this  delusion  quite  suddenly  one  day,  and  having 
lost  the  sense  of  your  own  identity  you  wandered 
off  under  the  impression  that  you  were  somebody 
else — some  friend  of  yours,  say — leaving  a  lady  in 
a  horrible  state  of  suspense,  not  knowing  what  had 
become  of  you,  and  a  little  child." 

"  Ah,  by  Jove  !  "  Mr.  Soames  exclaimed,  slap- 
ping the  table.  "  Who  told  you  that  story,  doc- 
tor ?  Was  I  drunk  last  night  ?  I  remember  hav- 
ing her  in  my  mind,  but  I  thought  I  had  been 
dreaming.  Was  I  talking  about  her  ?  I  do  talk 
sometimes  when  I'm  drunk,  but  it's  taking  a  mean 
advantage,  you  know,  to  round  on  a  fellow  that 
way."  He  became  thoughtful  for  a  little.  "  It 
all  happened  a  long  time  ago,"  he  pursued  ;  te  but 
I  know  now  what  a  fool  I  was  to  desert  her.  I've 
never  come  across  her  like  again.  And  I'll  tell 
you  what  it  is,  doctor,  if  I  knew  where  she  was 
at  this  moment,  and  she'd  have  me,  I'd  do  the 
right  thing  by  her  yet,  and  by  the  child  ;  I  would, 
indeed.  And  I'm  not  drunk  now.  I  know  what 
I'm  saying." 

"  My  poor  fellow,"  Lord  Wartlebury  said, 
soothingly,  "you  fancy  it  was  a  long  time  ago 
then?" 

"  And  wasn't  it  ?  "  Mr.  Soames  asked,  suspi- 
ciously. 

"  Try  and  recollect." 


SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED. 


I79 


He  puzzled  his  brains  for  a  little,  then  gave  it 
up,  or  came  to  a  conclusion,  it  was  impossible  to 
say  which,  with  a  toss  of  his  head  and  a  laugh. 

"  Oh,  come  now,"  he  said,  "  you  are  trying  to 
draw  me." 

Dr.  Mansell  smiled.  "  We  were  talking  about 
delusions,"  he  said.  *'  Xow,  suppose  I  told  you 
seriously  that  you  are  not  Lawrence  Soames  at  all, 
that  your  real  name  is  Leslie  Somers " 

"Leslie  Somers?"  he  interposed.  "I  know 
that  name.  But" — after  a  pause — "  I  cannot 
for  the  life  of  me  remember  how  I  know  it  or  what 
I  know  about  it.  However  for  the- sake  of  argu- 
ment, I'll  suppose  I'm  Leslie  Somers.  What 
then  ?" 

"Leslie  Somers,"  Dr.  Mansell  stolidly  pursued, 
"  is  a  barrister,  a  well-known  man,  whose  name 
appears  continually  in  the  daily  papers.  At  the 
beginning  of  this  summer  he  began  to  suffer  from 
the  effects  of  overwork,  and  was  obliged  to  take  a 
holiday.  He  went  with  his  wife  and  child  to  a 
quiet  little  seaside  place  to  recruit,  and  seemed  to 
be  recovering  ;  but  one  day,  without  any  warning, 
he  became  the  victim  of  a  delusion.  He  imagined 
his  name  was  Lawrence  Soames,  that  he  was  ac- 
credited British  Consul  to  San  Francisco ;  and 
after  careering  about  the  Continent  a  little  in  an 
erratic  way,  and  never  doubting  the  reality  of  his 
impression,  he  set  off  for  America  quite  prepared 
to  enter  upon  his  new  duties." 


l8o  SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  -^ 

"What  would  happen  then  when  he  got  to 
America  and  found  out  his  mistake  ? "  Mr. 
Soames  asked. 

"  Ah,  that  is  difficult  to  say/'  the  doctor  re- 
joined. "  But  I  haven't  finished  the  first  part  of 
the  plot  yet.  I  must  tell  you  that  his  wife  had 
followed  him  all  through  his  wanderings  with 
great  courage  and  devotion,  that  she  had  traced 
him  with  rare  intelligence,  and  nearly  lost  her 
life  on  three  occasions  in  her  eagerness  to  over- 
take him  ;  and  that  at  last  she  actually  embarked 
on  the  same  ship  that  he  did  for  San  Francisco, 
but  remained  concealed,  nervously  dreading  the 
shock  of  seeing  him  and  finding  herself  forgotten. 
After  a  time,  however,  it  was  found  impossible 
for  matters  to  remain  so,  and  useless,  too,  if  he 
was  ever  to  be  restored  to  his  right  mind  ;  and  it 
was  therefore  deemed  advisable  to  prepare  him  for 
an  interview,  and  to  endeavor,  if  possible,  to  rouse 
his  recollection  by  setting  the  past  before  him,  so 
as  to  enable  him  to  realize  his  own  plight." 

Lord  Wartlebury  here  nodded  approval,  but 
Mr.  Lawrence  Soames  remained  with  shrewd  eyes 
fixed  intelligently  on  the  doctor  and  an  enigmat- 
ical- grin  on  his  face  for  some  seconds  longer.  It 
was  impossible  to  guess  what  was  passing  through 
his  mind,  and  just  as  he  was  about  to  speak  the 
unexpected  sound  of  a  piano,  touched  by  a  light 
firm  hand,  diverted  his  attention.  He  looked 
round. 


SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED.  i8t 

**  It  is  one  of  the  ladies,"  Lord  Wartlebnry  ex- 
plained. "Their  cabin  is  just  behind  you." 

The  first  few  chords,  played  evidently  to  try 
the  instrument,  gradually  resolved  themselves  into 
the  strong  and  exquisite  yet  simple  cadence  of 
J.  S.  Bach's  first  prelude,  set  as  retournelle  and 
accompanied  by  Gounod  to  his  Ave  Maria.  It 
was  played  with  exquisite  feeling ;  and  at  the 
right  moment  a  lovely  contralto  voice  took  up  the 
air  : — 

"  Ave  Maria ! 
Mighty  yet  lowly, 
Pure  and  most  holy, 

Hear  from  thy  starry  throne  our  prayer : 
Though  faithless  friends  may  grieve  us, 
Wealth  and  fortune  leave  us, 
Grant  to  our  grief,  and  to  our  pain,  thy  tender  care. 

Sancta  Maria  I 
When  we  are  tearful, 
When  we  are  fearful, 
Give  to  us  thine  aid — to  us  thine  aid— of  prayer  I " 

Lawrence  Soames  turned  to  the  side  from  whence 
the  sound  proceeded,  and  sat  listening  spell- 
bound. An  unmistakable  flash  of  recognition  had 
come  into  his  face  when  the  first  notes  were 
played,  and  swiftly  following  it  came  signs  of 
softening  and  emotion  such  as  had  not  yet  ap- 
peared since  he  came  on  board  the  yacht.  The 
whole  man  was  transformed  for  the  moment,  ele- 
vated, undoubtedly,  and  when  he  spoke,  it  wa»  in  a 


1 8  2  SING  ULARLY  DEL  UDED. 

broken  voice,  from  which,  for  once,  all  the  jarring 
coarseness  had  disappeared.  "Well,  I  may  be 
mad,"  he  said,  "  and  I  may  have  a  wife  and  child 
as  yon  say,  and  I  mayn't  be  Lawrence  Soames, 
British  Consul  at  'Frisco.  It  is  all  possible  enough, 
and  by  Jove  !  if  she  sings  again,  I  shall  want  to 
believe  it.  I  shall  want  to  believe  that  I  didn't 
desert  her,  that  I  stood  by  her  like  a  man,  and  by 
the  child,  and  that  she  is  singing  that  now,  as  she 
used  to  sing  it  long  ago  with  a  thankful  heart,  as 
she  said,  because  of  the  great  joy  my  coming  had 
brought  into  her  miserable  life.  For  it  was  a 
miserable  existence  I  took  her  from,  and  she  was 
happy  with  me,  but — I  don't  know  why — she  got 
out  of  health,  and  I  think  it  bothered  me  to  see 
her  so — at  any  rate,  I  deserted  her."  His  head 
sank  on  his  breast,  and  he  fixed  his  eyes  oil  the 
table  before  him,  then  suddenly  he  looked  at  Lord 
Wartlebury.  ' '  Are  you  a  sort  of  prince  in  a  fairy 
tale,  sir  ?  "  he  said.  "  Do  you  go  about  righting 
wronged  damsels,  and  have  you  brought  us  to- 
gether on  purpose  ?  " 

"I  am  very  anxious  to  see  this  matter  put 
right,"  Lord  Wartlebury  answered,  guardedly. 

(<  Yes,"  Lawrence  Soames  went  on  again  in  his 
strangely  altered  voice,  "  I  begin  to  recall  her — 
the  soft  dark  hair,  the  great  tender  eyes,  the  little 
loving  ways.  Doctor,  ask  her  to  sing  again — no, 
though  ! "  suddenly  jumping  up.  "  Ask  her  to 
eee  me — ask  her  to  forgive  me  the  misery  I  have 


SINGULARLY  DELUDED.  183 

caused  her.     Tell  her  I  see  it  all  now — I  am  an 
altered  man — I  repent." 

Lord  Wartlebury  looked  at  Dr.  Mansell  in- 
quiringly. "  Has  it  come  right  ?  "  he  asked,  in 
a  low  tone. 

"  Not  quite/*  was  the  answer.  "  You  see, 
he  is  mistaken  about  the  circumstances.  How- 
ever, he  remembers  her — that  is  the  great  thing  ; 
the  rest  will  come  by  degrees.  Stop  a  minute, 
Soanies  ! "  He  had  been  about  to  leave  the  saloon. 
"  You  don't  know  your  way.  Stay  here  a  moment, 
and  I  will  go  and  find  out  if  she  is  prepared  to 
see  you." 

During  the  few  minutes  the  doctor  was  away 
Mr.  Soames  stood  motionless  with  his  head  up, 
in  the  attitude  of  one  straining  his  attention  to 
hear,  and  neither  spoke.  He  was  very  pale,  and 
when  the  doctor  came  for  him  he  followed  him  out 
nervously. 

Dr.  Mansell  returned  to  Lord  Wartlebury  im- 
mediately. He  was  cheerfully  rubbing  his  hands. 
"I  did  not  see  them  meet,"  he  said.  "They 
will  get  over  the  interview  best  by  themselves.  I 
quite  expect  he  will  remember  everything  dis- 
tinctly directly  he  sees  her." 

Lord  Wartlebury  parted  his  lips  to  reply,  but 
just  at  that  moment  a  piercing  shriek  rang 
through  the  ship  and  made  the  glasses  dance  on 
the  table. 

"  The  madman  is  murdering  her  ! "  they 
exclaimed,  and  rushed  to  the  rescue. 


184  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDBD. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  scene  that  presented  itself  to  Lord  'Wartle- 
bury and  Dr.  Mansell  on  entering  the  ladies'  saloon 
was  quite  inexplicable.  They  could  see  at  a  glance 
that  something  had  gone  wrong  there,  but  there 
was  no  sign  of  violence,  nothing  to  account  for 
the  scream. 

Miss  Somers  stood  in  the  doorway  of  her  cabin, 
her  plain,  benevolent  face  full  of  consternation  ; 
Gertrude  in  evening  dress — as  they  all  were — 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  saloon,  her  hands  pressed 
convulsively  to  her  breast,  her  eyes  staring,  her 
cheeks  pale,  her  lips  still  parted  as  when  she 
uttered  that  one  cry,  gazing  like  one  horror- 
stricken  at  Mr.  Lawrence  Soames,  who  had  ap- 
parently staggered  up  against  the  woodwork  of 
the  ship,  and  was.  leaning  there  as  if  for  support, 
with  a  face  no  less  pale  than  Gertrude's,  and  a 
general  appearance  and  expression  of  bewilder- 
ment about  him  difficult  to  depict. 

He  was,  however,  the  first  to  recover  himself. 
"  It  seems,"  he  said,  turning  to  Lord  Wartlebury, 
(<  there's  been  some  mistake  here." 

Lord  Wartlebury  looked  at  Gertrude  for  an 
explanation. 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  185 

"That  man/' she  gasped — "is  not — my — hus- 
band!" 

"  What  I "  Dr.  Mansell  ejaculated. 

«  How "  Lord  Wartlebury  faltered. 

"  Oh,  what  does  it  all  mean  ? "  Miss  Somers 
exclaimed,  coming  forward  as  she  spoke. 

"Well,  it  means,"  Mr.  Soames  said,  sarcas- 
tically, shaking  himself  together  and  lounging 
away  from  the  woodwork — "  it  means,  so  far  as  I 
can  make  it  out,  that  I've  got  among  a  set  of  staring 
— lunatics." 

Hereupon  Lord  Wartlebury  instantly  recovered 
himself  also.  "  I  am  afraid  there  has  been  an 
unfortunate  mistake,"  he  said,  with  his  usual 
dignified  precision.  "I  think,  sir,  if  you  have 
no  objection,  we  had  better  ask  the  ladies  kindly 
to  excuse  us.  I  have  an  explanation  to  offer  you, 
and  an  apology  to  make,"  with  which  he  led  the 
way  back  to  the  great  saloon. 

The  scene  that  followed  is  indescribable.  Mr. 
Soames  was  naturally  enraged.  At  first  he 
thought  himself  the  victim  of  an  elaborate  practical 
joke,  and  he  was  not  to  be  mollified  even  when 
he  found  that  his  host  and  the  doctor  were  as 
much  sold  as  himself,  as  he  phrased  it.  "  Why 
the  devil  didn't  you  ask  to  see  my  papers  ?  "  he 
roared  at  them. 

This  very  proper  precaution  had  never  occurred 
to  them,  because  no  doubt  of  his  identity  had  ever 
entered  their  minds. 


1 86  SING  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

To  do  Mr.  Lawrence  Soames  justice,  however, 
after  the  first  burst  of  indignation,  and  after  Lord 
Wartlebnry  had  sufficiently  abased  himself,  going 
so  far  in  his  anxiety  to  show  contrition  and  make 
amends  as  to  swear  eternal  friendship  with  Mr. 
Soames,  and  promise  the  use  of  his  interest  in  the 
consular  service  or  any  other  branch  of  the  legisla- 
ture, to  him  and  to  his  heirs  forever  ;  also — I  must 
mention  it — after  a  satisfying  share  of  a  bottle  of 
champagne,  he  began  to  be  genial  again.  He 
was  even  immensely  tickled  when  he  thought 
over  all  that  had  occurred — the  way  he  had  been 
chased  from  place  to  place  by  a  lovely  lady,  cap- 
tured by  a  peer  of  the  realm,  carried  off  in  a 
floating  palace  and  guarded  by  an  eminent  physi- 
cian, without  once  suspecting  the  object  of  all 
this  care  and  attention  !  It  was  all .  too  funny, 
really  ;  and  when  the  story  came  to  be  told,  it 
was  evident  that  the  laugh  would  not  be  at  his 
expense  at  all  events.  And  after  all,  he  had  lost 
nothing  by  the  mistake.  On  the  contrary,  he 
had  made  -a  powerful  friend,  and  had  had  a  very 
good  time.  And  now,  if  his  lordship  would  be 
good  enough  to  put  him  on  shore  at  Malta,  he 
would  be  able  to  catch  the  very  steamer  on  which 
he  had  taken  his  passage  from  'Frisco,  when  she 
touched  there,  and  might  then  go  on  his  way 
rejoicing,  certainly  none  the  worse  for  his  novel 
experience  ;  which  was  accordingly  done. 

He  was  a  common-looking  fellow,  without  the 


SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED.  187 

faintest  resemblance  to  Leslie  Somers  in  the  face  ; 
but  he  was  about  the  same  height ;  his  hair  was 
the  same  color,  and  grew  in  the  same  way  ;  and 
he  happened  to  have  been  wearing  much  the 
same  sort  of  summer  tweed  suit  :  all  of  which, 
with  the  circumstance  of  his  leaving  Trewport 
Station  at  the  time  he  did,  accounted  for  the 
mistake.  The  difficulty  now  was  how  to  repair 
it.  The  Star  was  of  course  headed  home  im- 
mediately, but  what  precious  time  had  been  lost ! 
Poor  Gertrude  sat  on  deck  all  day  long  and  half 
the  night,  with  her  hands  before  her,  thinking. 
She  was  very  quiet  and  very  patient,  but  seemed 
to  dislike  to  be  spoken  to.  Dr.  Mansell  distract- 
ed her  a  little  by  reading  to  her,  while  Lord 
Wartlebury  tried  to  comfort  Miss  Somers,  who 
was  naturally  nearly  as  anxious  on  her  brother's 
account  as  his  wife  was.  On  arriving  in  London, 
the  case  was  at  once  put  into  the  hands  of  com- 
petent detectives,  as  all  now  felt  it  should  have 
been  at  first.  Gertrude  went  with  Miss  Somers 
to  see  if  anything  had  yet  been  heard  of  her  hus- 
band at  his  home  or  chambers,  but  both  were  still 
closed  and  deserted.  The  house  especially  looked 
blank  and  dreary,  like  a  face  without  eyes,  with 
all  the  blinds  down  ;  she  wished  she  had  not  seen 
it.  Having  done  all  that  there  was  to  be  done  in 
London,  she  went  at  once  to  Trewport  to  see  her 
boy.  She  arrived  late  one  afternoon,  and  walked 
down  from  the  station*  leaving  her  luggage  to  be 


i88  SINGVLARL  Y  DEL  UDEJJ. 

sent  for,  there  being  no  vehicles  sent  to  meet 
trains  from  that  primitive  place  unless  specially 
ordered,  a  precaution  she  had  neglected,  wishing 
to  see  how  her  boy  had  fared  in  her  absence,  as 
she  might  exactly,  if  she  took  the  household  by 
surprise,  giving  them  no  time  for  preparation. 

It  was  a  lovely  afternoon,  but  sultry,  and  she 
found  all  the  doors  and  windows  wide  open,  and 
the  sun-blinds  still  drawn.  No  one  appeared  to 
be  about,  so  she  walked  into  the  hall  and  looked 
round.  It  seemed  smaller  than  when  she  had  last 
seen  it,  and  felt  strange. 

The  drawing-room  door  was  ajar,  and  she  went 
in  there.  A  gaunt  figure  sprang  from  a  couch 
with  a  glad  cry. 

"  Gertrude  !  " 

"Leslie!" 

And  in  a  moment  they  were  locked  in  each 
other's  arms. 

And  then  they  looked  at  each  other,  and  each 
found  the  other  so  sadly  changed,  that  both 
wept,  and  fervently  embraced  again.  Leslie  had 
a  foot  and  hand  all  bandaged,  and  could  not 
stand. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  The  cause  of  a  great  deal  of  misery,  I  am 
afraid,"  he  answered,  and  then  he  told  his  story. 

It  was  Lawrence  Soames  she  had  seen  in  the 
distance  walking  away  from  her,  for  it  seemed 
that  after  having  tied  her  up  to  the  telegraph 


SINGULARL  Y  DELUDED.  189 

post  that  morning,  Leslie  had  only  wandered  off 
some  two  or  three  hundred  yards  or  so  into  the 
bracken  behind  her.  It  was  a  perfect  jungle- 
growth  of  weed  and  fern  ;  he  could  not  see  what 
he  was  setting  his  feet  on,  and  all  at  once,  to  his 
horror,  he  felt  himself  slip  through.  He  grasped 
convulsively  at  the  weeds  about  him,  but  they 
came  up  by  the  roots,  and  only  served  to  break 
his  fall — which  was  something,  however,  as  other- 
wise he  must  have  dropped  a  dead-weight,  some 
thirty  feet  or  more,  into  a  sort  of  gully  or  rift  in 
the  heath,  the  presence  of  which  nothing  indi- 
cated until  you  were  in  it.  As  it  was,  he  fell 
heavily  enough  upon  stones  in  the  dry  bed  of  a 
torrent,  and  became  insensible  at  once.  When 
he  came  to  himself,  it  was  evening.  He  was 
lying  on  some  sheepskins  on  the  floor  of  a  rude 
hut.  There  was  a  wood  fire  in  one  corner,  with 
a  hole  in  the  roof  above  it  for  the  smoke  to  go 
through,  but  most  of  it  preferred  to  go  out  by 
the  door.  Over  the  fire  stood  a  creature  scarcely 
human  in  appearance  stirring  something  that  sim- 
mered in  a  large  pot,  with  a  stick.  It  was  a  man 
apparently,  but  he  was  more  like  a  huge  monkey. 
He  had  short  misshapen  legs,  long  body,  broad  at 
the  shoulders,  with  great  depth  of  chest  beto- 
kening strength,  abnormally  long  arms  upon  which 
the  muscles  stood  up  suggestively,  and  small  griz- 
zled head  looking  out  of  all  proportion  to  the 
rest  of  the  body,  with  close- cropped  hair  stand- 


I  go  SING  ULA  RL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

ing  up  on  end  all  over  it  as  a  monkey's  grows. 
Leslie  expected  to  see  a  hideous  face  when  the 
creature  turned,  but  the  face  was  not  hideous. 
It  was  animal  beyond  a  doubt,  but  with  a  sensi- 
tive expressive  mouth  and  a  pair  of  soft  brown 
eyes,  speaking  and  pathetic  as  a  stag's.  The 
animal  idea  was  suggested  by  the  short  flat  nose 
and  long  upper  lip,  while  the  human  being  ap- 
peared in  the  whole  expression  of  the  face,  which 
was  gentle  and  caressing,  wanting  in  something 
certainly — and  at  first  Leslie  could  not  imagine 
what  it  was — but  still  intelligent,  though  the  in- 
telligence was  assuredly  not  of  a  high  order. 
There  was  nothing  extraordinary  about  his  dress, 
which  was  such  as  was  worn  by  many  of  the 
poorer  shepherds  on  the  heath  ;  and  this,  to- 
gether with  the  sheepskin  bed,  rightly  suggested 
his  occupation  to  Leslie. 

When  he  came  to  himself,  the  shepherd's  back 
was  turned  to  him  as  he  tended  the  pot,  and  he 
did  not  therefore  see  that  Leslie  had  recovered. 

"Did  you  carry  me  here  yourself  ?"  the  latter 
asked.  "  I  think  you  could  carry  an  ox  in  those 
arms  of  yours,  0  son  of  Milo  !  " 

But  the  man  took  no  notice.  He  had  evidently 
not  heard. 

"  Hi ! "  Leslie  called,  with  the  same  result. 
"  Stone  deaf,  I  suppose,"  he  muttered  to  himself, 
then  tried  to  rise,  but  fell  back  again  on  the  skins 
with  a  groan.  He  thought  every  bone  in  his  body 


SlNGULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 


191 


was  broken,  and  he  lay  there  suffering,  not  daring 
to  make  another  effort,  for  some  time. 

At  last,  however,  the  mild-eyed  monster  turned 
to  look  at  him,  and  seeing  he  was  sensible,  came 
forward  with  a  pleased  smile,  flourishing  his  pot- 
stick,  and  making  every  sort  of  pantomimic 
demonstration  of  delight,  but  without  uttering 
a  syllable.  Leslie  shouted  at  him,  and  he  evidently 
saw  that  he  had  done  so,  for  his  countenance 
sobered  down  to  the  saddest  expression  possible, 
and  he  shook  his  head  vehemently  several  times, 
without,  however,  opening  his  mouth,  or  making 
any  sort  of  sound.  Leslie  rolled  his  head  despair- 
ingly on  his  sheepskin  pillow,  and  groaned  aloud. 
He  had  taken  in  the  situation  at  a  glance.  The 
shepherd  was  a  deaf-mute,  amiable,  ignorant,  and 
semi-imbecile  probably,  and  he  himself  was  at  his 
mercy,  a  helpless  prisoner,  unable  to  communicate 
with  his  jailer  at  present,  and,  until  he  could  do 
so,  cut  off  from  his  friends.  Doubtless  they  would 
gearch  for  him,  and  discover  him  in  time,  but  the 
thought  of  his  wife's  anxiety  and  suspense  was 
terrible.  He  noticed  that  the  day  was  waning, 
and  for  a  moment  wondered  what  they  were  doing 
not  to  have  found  him  already,  then  suddenly  he 
remembered  Gertrude's  position  when  he  left  her. 
She  might  remain  for  days  tied  up  on  that  lonely 
spot,  and  never  a  soul  come  by  that  way  to  rescue 
her.  True,  she  might  be  seen  by  a  passing  train. 
Then  he  thought  of  the  boy,  the  trains  and  the 


192  SItfGULARL  Y  DELUDED. 

boy,  and  saw  all  the  awful  things  that  might  hap- 
pen, and  in  an  agony  of  mind  struggled  to  his 
feet  and  staggered  forward,  only,  however,  to  fall 
fainting  at  tile  first  step,  and  so  to  lose  his  one 
chance  of  immediate  deliverance,  for  while  he  was 
still  insensible  Lord  Wartlebury's  men  came  across 
the  deaf  and  dumb  shepherd  standing  at  the  door 
of  his  hut,  but  not  being  able  to  make  anything 
of  the  one,  did  not  think  of  searching  the  other, 
and  went  their  way.  For  several  days  Leslie  lay 
on  that  sheepskin  bed,  unable  to  move.  He  had 
no  bones  broken,  so  it  happened,  but  he  was 
terribly  bruised  and  shaken,  and  one  ankle  was 
badly  dislocated.  It  was  from  this  that  he  suf- 
fered most.  It  became  swollen  and  inflamed  for 
want  of  proper  attention,  and  the  result  was  fever 
and  delirium  doubtless,  for  time  passed,  he  was. 
sure,  of  which  he  could  render  no  account  to  him- 
self. He  knew  the  sun  was  setting  one  evening, 
and  almost  immediately  after  he  saw  it  rising 
again,  yet  he  had  not  slept,  and  there  were  morn- 
ings when  at  daylight  the  shepherd  crumbled 
bread  into  broth,  and  gave  it  to  him  for  breakfast, 
as  was  his  wont  before  he  went  to  his  work,  and 
made  tea  in  the  evening  directly  afterward,  as  it 
seemed  to  Leslie's  imagination.  His  reason,  how- 
ever, warned  him  that  he  must  have  lost  all  consci- 
ousness of  time  in  the  interval.  During  one  of  his 
awakenings  he  found  that  the  shepherd  had  brought 
a  sick  sheep  into  the  hut  to  be  nursed,  and  Leslie 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  \ 93 

was  amused  to  see  the  way  he  divided  his  atten- 
tion between  the  two.  He  rather  thought  him- 
self the  favorite  patient,  but  it  was  difficult  to  de- 
cide, for  the  uncouth  nurse  was  tenderness  itself 
to  both — too  tender,  in  fact,  as  far  as  Leslie  was 
concerned,  for  the  latter  began  to  be  sure  that 
the  shepherd  liked  to  have  him  there,  and  was 
doing  his  best  to  hide  him,  instead  of  making  Ins- 
presence  known,  or  doing  anything  to  enable  him 
to  communicate  with  the  village.  The  very  first 
day  he  wrote  to  his  wife,  on  a  leaf  of  his  pocket- 
book,  and  gave  the  slip  to  the  shepherd  with  some 
money,  making  signs  for  him  to  take  both.  The 
shepherd  looked  first  at  one,  then  at  the 
other,  as  he  held  them  in  either  hand,  smiled, 
and  went  out.  Some  hours  later  he  returned  with 
brandy  and  fresh  provisions,  proving  that  he  had 
been  to  the  village  and  spent  the  money.  Leslie 
showed  him  another  leaf  of  his  pocketbook,  try- 
ing to  find  out  what  he  had  done  with  the  first. 
The  man  seemed  to  understand,  for  he  made 
a  backward  gesture  over  his  shoulder  toward  the 
door  with  his  thumb,  and  nodded  several  times 
significantly  ;  but  what  the  pantomime  signified, 
except  that  he  was  satisfied  with  himself,  Leslie 
could  not  determine.  Eventually,  however,  he 
became  sure  that  the  note  had  not  been  delivered, 
as  no  result  followed. 

Happily,  as  it  happened,  he  had  soon  hit  upon 
an  expedient  which  brought  some   relief  to  his 
13 


194  SINGULARLY  DELUDED. 

anxiety  on  his  wife's  account.  He  was  a  good 
draughtsman,  and  he  did  a  clever  sketch  in  his 
pocketbook  of  the  scene  as  he  had  left  her,  the  rail- 
way line  and  the  surroundings,  as  well  as  he  could 
recollect  them,  and  the  slight  girlish  figure  tied  up 
to  the  telegraph-post.  This  he  gave  to  the  shep- 
herd, and  pointed  to  the  door.  The  man  looked 
at  the  sketch  with  knitted  brows  attentively,,  then 
looked  at  Leslie.  The  latter  took  it  back,  and  drew 
the  shepherd  himself  cutting  the  ropes  with  his 
knife.  This  the  shepherd  evidently  understood, for 
he  smiled  as  soon  as  he  saw  it.  Then  Leslie  clasped 
his  hands  imploringly,  and  made  signs  for  him  to 
go,  and  presently  he  did  go  out,  still  studying  the 
sketch.  It  was  a  long  time  before  he  returned, 
but  when  he  did  appear  he  brought  Leslie  a  rope, 
which  the  latter  was  quite  sure  he  recognized,  and 
showed  him  where  the  two  ends  had  been  cut  with 
a  knife.  Leslie  concluded  from  that  moment 
that  his  wife  had  been  released,  and  he  was  so 
overcome  with  relief  and  gratitude  that  he  seized 
the  monster's  hairy  hand  and  kissed  it  ;  where- 
upon the  monster  gravely  examined  the  spot,  and 
went  and  sat  over  the  fire  for  the  rest  of  the  day, 
keeping  it  covered  with  the  other  hand,  but  occa- 
sionally uncovering  it,  and  critically  examining  the 
spot  again.  Leslie  also  drew  a  picture  of  iiis 
house  and  himself  being  carried  by  the  monster 
thither,  but  this  the  latter  would  not  understand  ; 
nor  would  he  show  the  slightest  gleam  of  interest 


SSWG  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED.  195 

in  two  other  pictures— one  of  himself  leading  Ger- 
trude from  the  house,  and  the  other  of  Gertrude 
in  the  hut — though  he  took  possession  of  the 
sketches  and  hoarded  them  up. 

The  sheep  recovered,  and  was  allowed  to  join 
the  flock  ;  but  Leslie  believed  that  he  himself 
would  not  be  allowed  to  go.  He  therefore  deter- 
mined to  effect  his  escape.  He  could  not  walk,  so 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  crawl,  and,  watch- 
ing his  opportunity,  he  began  the  painful  process 
when  the  shepherd  had  gone  to  work  one  morn- 
ing soon  after  daylight. 

And  a  very  painful  process  it  was,  and  also  hu- 
miliating. For  man  was  not  meant  to  go  on  all- 
fours,  and  a  distinguished  London  barrister  natu- 
rally knew  every  argument  that  could  be  urged 
against  such  a  course.  The  first  difficulty  was  to 
find  the  way  ;  but  this  was  soon  settled  by  the  posi- 
tion of  the  hills  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  and 
he  further  determined  his  route  by  a  track — it  was 
scarcely  a  footpath — which  led  off  past  the  door  of 
the  hut  in  that  direction.  The  next  trouble  was 
how  to  proceed.  The  injured  ankle  was  intensely 
painful  ;  the  slightest  touch  or  jar  to  it  was  un- 
bearable. A  crutch  would  have  made  matters 
easier  ;  but  he  had  not  even  a  stick,  so  there  was 
nothing  for  it  but  his  hands  and  knees,  and  another 
difficulty  was,  how  to  work  them — whether  to 
move  one  hand  and  one  leg  at  a  time,  or  both  hands 
and  both  legs  together,  resting  on  the  former 


196  SING  ULARL  Y  DEL  UDED. 

while  he  dragged  the  latter  up  to  them,  and  so 
made  a  step.  He  did  both  alternately,  and  in  an 
inconceivably  short  time  his  trousers  were  worn 
through,  and  he  had  to  make  what  way  he  could 
on  his  bare  knees.  A  bird's-eye  view  of  him  just 
then,  jerking  along  through  the  bracken,  which 
towered  above  him,  would  have  puzzled  a  nat- 
uralist. And  he  certainly  looked  the  strangest 
creature  !  He  had  neither  been  washed  nor  shaved 
since  his  accident — for  the  monster  did  not  use 
water  in  that  way  himself,  and  could  never  be  per- 
suaded to  let  his  precious  prisoner  run  any.  rash 
risk  of  the  kind,  firmly  declining  to  understand, 
let  the  latter  beg  never  so  hard  by  every  sign  he 
could  devise  for  water  to  perform  the  dangerous 
operation  ;  his  tawny  head  was  tumbled  ;  he  was 
without  collar  or  tie  ;  and  altogether,  with  his 
pale  hollow  cheeks,  sunken  eyes,  and  generally 
haggard  expression,  he  might  easily  have  been 
mistaken  for  a  maimed  lunatic  making  his  escape. 
The  distance  he  had  to  traverse  seemed  endless, 
and  he  could  never  have  performed  the  feat  with- 
out some  such  strong  incentive  as  the  instinct 
of  self-preservation  or  love  like  his  own  for  his 
wife  and  child,  and  anxiety  on  their  account.  He 
did  accomplish  it,  however,  at  last,  arriving  at  his 
own  door  in  such  a  sorry  plight  that  the  nurse, 
who  was  just  coming  out  with  his  boy  in  her  arms/ 
seeing  the  unkempt  tatterdemalion  crouched  on 
the  step,  gathered  her  little  charge  up  closer,  and 


SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  197 

turning,  fled  to  the  farther  end  of  the  hall,  from 
which  coigne  of  vantage  she  eyed  him  suspiciously. 
"  Don't  you  know  me,  Elizabeth  ?  "  he  said,  in 
a  vreak  voice. 

She  came  a  little  nearer,  with  eyes  that  looked 
they  would  start  out  of  her  head  in  amaze- 
ment, recognizing  him,  yet  notable  to  believe  the 
evidence  of  her  senses.  The  boy  began  to  whim- 
per at  the  sad  sight. 

"  Take  him  away,"  Leslie  said,  dragging  him- 
self into  the  hall,  "  and  bring  Porter  " — his  valet 
— "  and  help  me  to  my  room.  Be  quick  !  But, 
for  heaven's  sake,  don't  alarm  your  mistress.  She 
mustn't  see  me  like  this ;  it  would  frighten  her 
to  death." 

They  carried  him  up  to  his  dressing-room, 
brought  him  restoratives,  and,  not  daring  to  ask 
questions,  gazed  at  him,  trying  to  satisfy  their 
curiosity  in  that  way.  He  sent  for  a  doctor  to 
see  his  foot,  and  insisted  on  being  bathed  and 
shaved  immediately.  While  Porter  was  engaged 
in  this  last  operation  Mr.  Somers  asked,  **  How 
is  your  mistress  ?  " 

"  She  seemed  pretty  well,  sir,  the  last  time  I 
-saw  her,"  was  the  answer.  "  We  thought  you 
was  up  in  London  with  her,  sir." 

"  Up  in  London  ! "  Leslie  ejaculated.  "  "When 
•did  she  go  there  ?  " 

Porter  named  the  day. 

Leslie  reflected.     "  That  was  the  very  day  I 


r 98  SINGULARL  Y  DEL UDED. 

broke  my  ankle/'  he  said  at  last.  "  I  fell  down 
a  precipice,  and  was  picked  up  by  a  deaf  and 
dumb  shepherd  who  carried  me  to  his  hut,  and 
has  kept  me  there  a  sort  of  prisoner  ever  since. 
What  time  did  your  mistress  get  home  that  day  ?  " 

"  Some  time  in  the  afternoon,  I  think,  sir.  I 
didn't  see  her  come  in.  A  gentleman  brought  her 
to  the  gate,  I  heard,  sir." 

"  Was  she  very  much  alarmed  about  me  ?  " 

"  No,  sir  ;  she  seemed  just  as  usual  when  I  saw 
her,  sir.  She  said  you  had  gone  to  London  un- 
expectedly. I  asked  if  I  should  take  your  things, 
sir,  but  she  said  you  had  given  no  orders  about 
them,  and  she  expected  you  would  write.  The- 
gentleman  as  brought  her  home  come  back  later 
with  another  old  gentleman,  the  Earl  of  Wartle- 
bury,  sir.  He'd  come  here  yachting,  I  heard. 
They  stayed  dinner,  and  they  all  seemed  very 
pleasant  together,  and  the  missus  went  away  with 
them  that  night.  She  said  she  was  going  to  do 
some  shopping  in  London  while  you  was  there, 
and  would  come  back  with  you.  She  didn't  take 
her  maid,  sir,  and  only  very  few  things." 

Leslie  was  speechless.  "Are  you  sure  she  did 
not  seem  alarmed  or  put  out  in  any  way  ? "  he 
managed  to  ask  at  last. 

"  Quite  sure,  sir,"  the  man  rejoined  positively. 
"  She  seemed  jnst  as  usual,  and  none  of  us  sus- 
pected anything  was  the  matter,  though  we  did 
think  it  a  rum  go — if  you'd  excuse  the  expression, 


S1NGULARL  Y  DEL UDED.  199 

sir — the  both  of  you  going  off  like  that  so  sudden, 
sir." 

"It  is  ten  days  since,  isn't  it  ?"  Leslie  asked. 

"  About  that,  sir/'  the  mau  answered,  reflec- 
tively. 

"  And  have  you  heard  nothing  from  her 
since  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  twice,  sir.  She  wrote  to  Elizabeth, 
and  said  Miss  Somers  was  coming  down  for  change 
of  air,  and  to  get  a  room  ready  for  her  ;  and  then 
she  wrote  again,  sir,  a  few  days  after,  and  said 
Miss  Somers  would  not  come  just  yet,  but  we  was 
to  expect  her — the  missus,  sir — at  any  time.  So 
we've  been  expecting  you  both,  sir,  every  day." 

The  doctor  ordered  Leslie  to  bed,  on  pain  of 
being  lamed  for  life,  and  very  kindly  sent  tele- 
grams for  him  to  his  wife  and  sister.  No  answer 
coming  to  them,  Leslie  sent  his  man  to  London 
that  night  to  make  inquiries.  The  latter  returned 
next  day  with  an  inexplicable  piece  of  intelligence. 
He  said  the  servants  at  Miss  Somers'  house  had 
declared  that  their  mistress,  Mrs.  Leslie,  and  Mr. 
Somers  also,  they  understood,  had  all  gone  yacht- 
ing with  Lord  Wartlebury,  but  nobody  knew  ex- 
actly where.  There  was  therefore  nothing  for 
Leslie  to  do  but  lie  there  day  after  day,  a  prey  to 
the  most  anxious  suspense,  and  wait.  He  did  not 
know  what  to  think,  but  he  understobd  his  wife 
too  well  to  imagine  for  a  moment  that  she  was 
amusing  herself  while  there  was  any  doubt  about 


200  SING ULARLY  DEL UDED. 

his  safety.  Her  voyage  must  bear  some  referenc* 
to  his  disappearance,  and  it  did  occur  to  him  that 
she  might  have  gone  off  on  some  wild-goose  chase, 
following  a  false  scent  under  a  delusion.  This 
idea  was  comforting,  because,  of  course,  she  must 
discover  her  mistake  sooner  or  later,  and,  not  find- 
ing her  husband,  would  come  back  to  her  boy  as 
surely  as  the  magnet  turns  to  the  pole.  So  he 
waited  with  what  patience  he  could  command,  till 
her  well-known  step  roused  him  from  a  doze  that 
happy  afternoon,  and  they  found  themselves  at 
last,  after  such  a  world  of  suffering,  safe  in  each 
other's  arms. 


THE  BND. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  043  676     6 


